Dominion
by Kehlan
Summary: A Federation and Klingon Ship must work together in the final months of the Dominion War. But who is the Klingon captain really and what is he hiding?
1. Chapter 1

**Frontera, February 2375**

Krang son of Marek of the House of Inigan was enjoying a rare off duty moment with his youngest children when the message came through. Wearing a heavy leather tunic and a pair of Terran jeans, he was sitting on the floor with his little son on his knee. The boy, Meren, named for Krang's dead brother, had his favourite toy in his tiny fist – a miniature wooden batleth that Krang had carved for him. He was almost three years old now. Two little girls were sitting with him, listening raptly as their father finished the story he was telling.

"Now, Kehlan," he asked the younger girl, "Why did Kahless fight his brother?"

The child, just five years old, concentrated, thinking about it. "Because he told a lie," she said finally.

"And that's bad?"

She nodded solemnly, "That's very bad."

"It's more than bad," Kara, the elder at six years old, added, "It's dis – honour – able."

Krang smiled at her careful pronunciation of the word. "So, what should Morath have done?" He looked up, his smile becoming broader as his _Terragnan_ wife came into the room, interrupting the lesson.

"There's a message for you from Starfleet Command," Chrissie said, "Admiral Portway wants to talk to you. I think it's important."

"I'll take it in the office," Krang said, handing the little boy to his mother and getting to his feet. Heading towards the small room he used when working from home, he mentally reviewed what he knew of the admiral. Isis Portway was Terran, from a small island named England. Promoted to the Admiralty several years ago, there had recently been some trouble. She had been accused of having Maquis sympathies but there hadn't been enough hard evidence to convict her. Personally Krang suspected the rumours were true. Of course, with the outbreak of the Dominion war, that was water under the bridge – Starfleet couldn't afford to lose any more of its officers, especially not one so competent.

Sitting down at his desk, he activated the viewscreen, and touching a few keys, signalled acceptance of the incoming transmission.

The Federation logo flickered and was replaced by the image of a human woman wearing the uniform of a Starfleet Admiral. She looked to be in her late forties with short sandy red hair.

" _NuqneH?_ " Krang greeted her, "You must be Admiral Portway."

She inclined her head, "That's right. And you are Commander Krang. You're out of uniform."

"I am off duty at present," Krang informed her, a little stiffly.

"As am I," the admiral sighed, suddenly looking tired. "At least I would be if the situation allowed. I'll be honest with you Commander, things aren't looking good."

"What can I do for you?" the Klingon asked gruffly.

"We need you here on Earth," Admiral Portway told him, "I want you to attend a conference with the Federation Council – try to convince them of the need to implement stricter security protocols."

"What makes you so sure they'll take any notice?" Krang said, frowning, "If they won't listen to you then why should they listen to a mere commander?"

"We both know you're not just a commander," the admiral snapped, "That may be your Federation rank, but I know, you know and they know, exactly what a Klingon Captain of Security really is." She paused. "If anyone can persuade them, you can. Will you do it?"

"It would be my honour," Krang responded.

"Good," the admiral said, a look of relief crossing her face, I've already sent Captain Kay'vin of the Hegh'Ta for you. He should reach Frontera some time tomorrow. Be ready to leave immediately he arrives."

"Very well," the Klingon said, "Krang out." He reached out and cut the connection. He was still sitting staring at the blank screen, mentally making plans, when he heard a commotion in the hallway.

"TONI, FINA!" he yelled, "Cut down that noise!" Getting up he went to greet his two older children. He was not their natural father. Antonio and Josefina were full Terran, the result of Chrissie's first marriage, but he was the only father they knew and he loved them as his own. "What are you doing home from school this early?" he asked sternly.

"Come on _Vavoy_ ," Fina said giggling, "It's 16:00, we're always home at this time."

"Except when you have dance class, or sports or batleth practice," Krang retorted, "Or any one of a hundred different activities."

"Football got cancelled," Toni informed him, "So we thought we'd come home and be a nuisance."

"That's nothing new," Krang said, laughing. "Now let's go and find your mother. I need to talk to you all."

"I'm in the kitchen," Chrissie called and they trooped in to join her, seating themselves around the table, still laughing and joking. "What did the Admiralty want?" Chrissie asked, handing drinks to her children.

"Christa, my love," Krang said to his wife, holding out a hand to her, "Come and sit down."

She did so, a flicker of concern crossing her face – Krang almost never called her by her full name and when he did it usually meant trouble. "You sound serious. What is it?

Krang took a deep breath before saying "I leave for Earth in the morning." There was a stunned silence as he told his family about his conversation with Admiral Portway.

"Cool!" Typically it was Toni who broke the silence. "Are we coming with you?"

Krang shook his head. "You'd miss too much school."

"Oh that's not fair," the boy protested, "I'll be thirteen in two weeks, you'll never be back by then."

"And I'll be eleven soon," Fina added hopefully. "Please let us come."

"I'll bring you back something special," the big Klingon promised, "And we can have a celebration when I return."

Chrissie looked at her husband gravely. "Maybe we should come with you," she said, her voice quiet.

"No!" Krang insisted, "My decision is final." Seeing the looks on their faces, he softened a little but did not change his mind. "Earth is at risk from the Jem'Hadar. I want you here on Frontera where it's safe."

* * *

Kissing his wife one last time, Krang stepped up onto the transporter pad and indicated to the operator that he was ready and moments later he materialised in the transporter room of the IKC Hegh'Ta.

Hegh'Ta, the second ship to bear that name, was the first of the new Hunter class of birds-of-prey, developed especially for the Dominion war. At 250m in length it was larger and more powerful than the older classes, although still smaller and more manoeuvrable than the great battle cruisers. It had a crew complement of sixty as well as a detachment of one hundred marines.

The ship's captain, a grizzled warrior named Kay'vin, was waiting for him.

"Security Captain!" Kay'vin said with a grin, approaching Krang and clapping him on the shoulder, "It's good to see you again. Welcome on board."

"I wish you wouldn't call me that," Krang said, frowning, "I'm just a commander – and a Starfleet one at that." Then, returning Kay'vin's grin, he continued, "But it's good to see you too, you old reprobate!"

Hitting his combadge, Kay'vin snapped an order to the bridge crew, telling them to get the ship under way, before saying to his guest, "Come on, I'll show you to your quarters – you can dump your bags there." And with a sly glance at his old friend, said, "Then, if you haven't gone soft, I have a barrel of blood-wine waiting in the mess hall."

"If that first officer of yours hasn't drunk it all yet," Krang replied, laughing. "Come on then, lead the way."

"Oh, of course. You wouldn't have heard," Kay'vin said as they walked down the corridor, "Kovak isn't with us any more. I have a new first officer."

"Tell me about it," Krang invited.

"He got into a fight on the Homeworld," Kay'vin told him, "In a brothel, I believe. So, Imperial Command sent me Ch'vok instead, arrogant _targ_ that he is – some High Family brat who thinks he knows it all. I guarantee he won't be drinking blood-wine – I'm not convinced he even likes _gagh_!" He snorted his disgust. "If I get lucky, Kargan will try for promotion, and I hope he succeeds!"

Turning into another corridor, they came to a halt outside an open door. The guards, one on either side of the door, came stiffly to attention. "At ease!" Kay'vin said, but otherwise ignored them. "Well, this is it" the Klingon captain said, standing back to allow Krang to enter his sleeping quarters and then followed him inside.

Krang dumped his kit bag on the floor and surveyed the room. It was bare of furnishings other than a clothes locker, a desk containing a computer console, a chair and a hard metal slab for sleeping on. There was no insult here though; this room was no different to those used by the senior officers of the ship. Only the captain's room would be bigger, and even that would be sparsely furnished.

"Well?" The Klingon captain couldn't resist another dig at his old friend, "Think you can handle it? Or shall I order a feather mattress and some soft cushions?"

"That would be nice," Krang said, carefully keeping a straight face. He pulled out his d'k'tahg and inspected it before growling, "But if you insult me again, I'll kill you where you stand."

"You probably could at that!" Kay'vin said with a burst of laughter, waving back the concerned security guards, who had just come rushing in, believing their captain to be in danger. "I don't kid myself I could beat you in a fight. Now, how about we go and get that blood-wine!" And arm in arm the two men headed off towards the mess hall, bickering all the way.

The senior crew were already in the hall, and from the look of things, the captain's barrel of blood-wine was already half empty. Krang looked around the hall, hoping to see Kay'vin's science officer there. Kehlan had been a friend of his family for a long time, ever since she had attended a scientific conference on Frontera. His wife, heavily pregnant at the time, had been kidnapped and Kehlan, along with Kay'vin, had been instrumental in helping him find and rescue her. As a result they had named their daughter for her. Seeing her, he gave a broad smile and rushed over to her, enveloping her in a bear-hug and swinging her off her feet, before kissing her cheek and putting her down again. It was a distinctly un-Klingon greeting but Kehlan was half _Terragnan_ and he knew she would understand. His arm draped companionably across her shoulders, he turned to greet the other officers, most of whom he had met before, although he didn't know them well.

As they returned his greeting, he became aware of someone who could only be the new first officer, and sure enough as the captain had suggested, he was not drinking the blood-wine. The stranger was staring at Krang and Kehlan in a way that Krang found slightly offensive. "I can see that you two at least, know each other," the man said, a note of sly enjoyment in his voice.

Sensing Kehlan's anger at the first officer's insinuations, he tightened his grip on her shoulder. She was more than capable of knocking the smile off Ch'vok's face, Krang knew, but the arrogant first officer really wasn't worth the effort.

"Ignore him, Kehlan," he muttered to her in a quick aside, "Don't soil your d'k'tahg on the likes of him." Then addressing the first officer, he said coolly "You must be Ch'vok. The captain has told me about you."

Sensing the unspoken warning in Krang's tone, Ch'vok gave an ingratiating smile, "Pleased to meet you Commander, let me get you some blood-wine."


	2. Chapter 2

The flight to Earth would take the Hegh'Ta twelve days at warp six. Two days into the voyage, seated in the Captain's ready room, Krang and Kay'vin were discussing the mission. Krang was unsurprised to find that Kay'vin believed it was a waste of time. "We are Klingon warriors - we should be out fighting the Dominion," Kay'vin said, his voice rising to a roar, "Not sitting around a desk, talking and doing nothing like some cowardly _petaQ_!"

"You'll get your chance," Krang said, his tone showing his certainty, "There's still plenty of fighting for us to do."

"You're an optimist," Kay'vin snorted, "We could be in glorious battle, but instead, what do we get? More useless meetings."

"This meeting is important," Krang said, "The Federation Council must be made to understand the seriousness of the situation. There are some good warriors in Starfleet if only the Council would allow them to act appropriately."

Kay'vin scowled, suddenly serious, "I hope you can make a difference."

"So do I," Krang said quietly, "So do I."

* * *

Captain Kay'vin and his guest were once again sitting in the Captain's ready room, sharing a bottle of warnog as they talked. "Damn Kovak for getting himself killed," Kay'vin swore, taking a mouthful of his drink as he spoke. "If he weren't already dead, I'd kill him for deserting me like that."

"He was a good officer," Krang commented, "even if he did drink a bit too much. What in Kahless' name made you pick Ch'vok as his successor?"

"Pick Ch'vok?" Kay'vin said, staring at his friend incredulously. "Is that what you think? I didn't pick him, he got foisted on me by Imperial Command. I wanted to promote Kargan but they said he was too young and ordered me to take Ch'vok instead."

"Do you think he's an I.I. agent?" Krang asked thoughtfully. Most Klingon ships did have one on board and the captains rarely knew for definite who it was. The Klingon Empire ran on paranoia and unlike the Federation, kept its officers under routine surveillance. As a former Captain of Security however, Krang knew what to look for and had already found and disabled the monitoring device in Kay'vin's ready room as well as the one in his own quarters although those in public places such as the bridge and the mess hall, he had left intact.

"Ch'vok working for Imperial Intelligence?" Kay'vin laughed. "I doubt it. I mean, when you were in charge, would you have employed him?"

"Not a chance," Krang said, shaking his head, "But then, there's been a lot of changes since my time, and not all of them for the better."

"The man's useless," Kay'vin said with a frustrated growl.

"Then why do you put up with him?"

"What's that saying the _Terragnans_ have?" Kay'vin said, "About giving someone enough rope and they'll hang themselves. Well so far, he hasn't quite given me enough reason to kill him. He's still young and inexperienced. He'll either learn or die."

"He's no younger than any of your other officers," Krang retorted. "I'd get rid of him if I were you."

"I'm not like you Krang," Kay'vin said, "I'm not from one of the great Houses. Ch'vok comes from one of the most powerful families in the Empire. I can't afford to start a blood feud that could wipe out my House completely. Until he steps out of line, I'm stuck with him."

Krang nodded, sympathising with the Klingon captain's dilemma. It was a problem he had come across many times in his career although his own family had been powerful enough that it had never affected him personally. Many good officers had been held back through lack of family connections, while others, less competent, but from powerful families, were promoted to ranks they did not deserve.

Kargan reached under his desk and opening a drawer, he pulled out a personal access display device – or padd as it was more commonly called and activated it. "Here, read this," he said, handing it to Krang, "You'll see what I mean."

Krang carefully read the report Kay'vin had handed him. It had been written some time ago by the first officer and dealt with a minor incident between two lower ranking officers. "I do see what you mean," Krang said eventually, "It's adequate and no more."

"Exactly," Kay'vin said, "And that's the problem. He's adequate and no more." Seeing the empty glass in the other man's hand, he indicated the bottle. "Have another drink."

* * *

Krang entered the mess hall and moved over to the tables, looking to see what was on offer that evening. He was hungry. He had just spent the afternoon reviewing training records with the Hegh'Ta's security chief and making recommendations for drills and exercises. It wasn't really his job. Technically he was only a passenger on the ship and had no authority, but Kay'vin, mindful of his vast experience in this area, had been quick to put him to work. The Captain might be a joker at times, but he was good at his job and cared about his crew. Not that the crew would be so happy with all the extra gunnery and targeting drills they had planned. The practice would be good for them though, and might just help to keep them alive when the ship next went into battle. Dominion ships were incredibly powerful and they needed every advantage they could get if they were going to survive, let alone stand a chance of actually winning this war.

After a few moments thought, he helped himself to some _Bregit_ lung and a generous portion of g _agh_ before seating himself at the table with the senior officers of the Hegh'Ta. The lower ranks would not eat until later, so the officers had the spacious hall to themselves.

This was the life, he thought contentedly as he took a swig of his blood-wine, it had been a long time since he had eaten fresh _gagh_ \- Klingon food was hard to obtain on Frontera. It was a pity that it was such a short journey to their destination; they were a week into the voyage now - only a few more days and they would arrive, and then there would be all the protocol and meetings – long dreary meetings which would accomplish nothing. Despite the seriousness of the war, the Federation politicians were unlikely to listen to anything the Klingons or the Romulans – or for that matter, Starfleet, had to say. Not that he trusted the Romulans himself, but something had to be done to make the politicians listen to the people involved in the fighting or the war would be lost.

A burst of uproarious laughter interrupted Krang's momentary introspection and he shook himself mentally, turning his attention back to the present.

Captain Kay'vin started to sing – a comic song about a warrior who wanted to fight but couldn't find a battle, and taking another mouthful of blood-wine, Krang joined the other officers in the chorus.

They were on their third repetition when the comm. system was activated and the duty officer on the bridge reported an emergency transmission. A transport freighter identifying itself as the Orinoco, carrying refugees from the war was under attack by a squadron of Jem'Hadar attack ships and was in need of assistance.

The Captain immediately gave the order to change course and increase speed to maximum. Krang sensed the almost subliminal change in intensity of the Hegh'Ta's warp drive as the vessel began to streak across space at enormous speed, taking them towards the endangered freighter and battle with the Jem'Hadar.

* * *

It took the Hegh'Ta a little over an hour at maximum warp to reach the stricken ship. Neatly inserting his ship between the Jem'Hadar and their target, Kay'vin ordered the gunner to begin firing and the battle commenced.

"Take over the helm, Kargan," Kay'vin yelled, "Science officer Kehlan, keep track of those ships." No-one seeing the Klingon captain now, would call him a joker – his good humour completely gone, he was deadly serious. And yet, there was a light in his eyes, that spoke of the fierce joy he felt in battle.

The Klingon bird-of-prey was just one ship against four Jem'Hadar vessels and the fighting was intense. The enemy ships were small, only about the size of a B'rel class bird-of-prey, but they were fast, manoeuvrable and heavily armed. Their phased polaron beam weapons were incredibly powerful and a match for even the most advanced shielding technology. Back in 2370, a Federation ship, the USS Odyssey, had encountered a fleet of three Jem'Hadar attack ships. Despite its greater size, the Galaxy class ship had been destroyed. Kay'vin was well aware of this as he formulated his battle plan.

Krang joined the gunnery officer at the tactical consoles, expertly operating Hegh'Ta's huge disruptor canons and sending volley after volley of emerald green fire at the Jem'Hadar ships. The young officer, glad of the assistance, turned his attention to the torpedo launchers, swiftly bringing them on line and firing them at the enemy ships. He was a good shot and all the torpedoes found their targets.

"Incoming fire," Kehlan called, "Diverting auxiliary power to the shields."

"Initiating evasive manoeuvres," Kargan responded.

"Keep us between the freighter and the Jem'Hadar," Kay'vin shouted. "Protect Orinoco at all costs."

In its efforts to protect the damaged freighter, the Klingon ship was unable to manoeuvre well enough to completely avoid the enemy fire and the polaron beam caught Hegh'Ta across the upper port side of the hull. It was only a glancing blow but it was enough to weaken the shields.

"Shields down to fifty percent," Kehlan reported, frantically trying to bring them back up to full strength.

The Hegh'Ta lurched violently as it was struck by a barrage of torpedoes from the nearest enemy ship and Krang was thrown to the ground. As the ship steadied, he got to his feet, looking around him to survey the damage. It was severe. Sparks arose from the consoles and the acrid smell of smoke filled the air. Captain Kay'vin lay on the deck, a jagged piece of metal protruding from his chest. Instantly Krang was at his side, checking for a pulse, but there was nothing he could do to help the stricken captain, he was already dead. There was no time even for the death ritual – that would have to wait until later. Kay'vin would have to cross the river of blood unannounced. Sto-Vo-Kor would receive no warning of this warrior's arrival.

XXX

Thank you to Anonymaustrap for the kind review. This is a very old story, one of the first I wrote and I am finally putting it up here. It will introduce most of the characters that feature in my more recent stories. I should be fairly quick to add new chapters as its already complete, it just needs some editing work to tidy it up a bit.


	3. Chapter 3

As the ship lurched again, another console exploded, causing the unlucky officer leaning over it, to scream with pain as his face was burned. The fire suppression system cut in, putting out the flames before they could take hold and spread but several of the control panels on the bridge were now completely unusable.

The first officer seemed to be missing and Krang realised that the crew were close to panic with nobody to tell them what to do. Immediately he took control, yelling, "Helm, attack pattern gamma." And then "Gunner, continue firing." Pointing towards the nearest enemy ship, he added, "Aim at the upper wing joints, they are vulnerable there." Moving over to an undamaged console, he began to re-route power, attempting to bring the shields back up to full strength, at the same time continuing to give orders to the crew.

Then unexpectedly, Kehlan looked up from the communications console, "Sir, we have an incoming message."

"From Orinoco?" Krang asked as a lucky shot hit the Jem'Hadar ship, causing it to explode.

"No sir" Kehlan said, a note of surprise in her voice, "It's from a Federation ship."

Krang barked an order to the helmsman, telling him to change course, then, "Put it through on audio only. I want the enemy kept on screen."

A voice came crackling over the comm. system, speaking Federation standard English, _"This is Captain James Mackenzie of the Federation Starship Endeavour. Do you require assistance?"_

Krang gave a harsh laugh. "There are plenty of enemy ships here for both of us, Captain. You are welcome to join the battle." Quickly and efficiently changing his battle plan to take advantage of the unexpected ally, he continued "Take an attack vector on heading one-one-two, mark six. Target the ship to starboard and fire on my command."

With the assistance of the Federation starship the battle was quickly over. When a second Jem'Hadar vessel blew up, the remaining ships, realising that they could not win, changed course and retreated. Regretfully, Krang gave the order not to pursue them. They were badly damaged and there was a freighter full of refugees in need of medical and technical help, not to mention protection on the rest of its journey.

Bringing the Hegh'Ta to a stop, Krang moved around the bridge, congratulating each of the crew on their performance. They had fought well. But his gaze turned cold as he looked at the first officer's empty station and asked, "Where is Ch'vok?"

The officers stared at each other, realising that they had not seen the missing officer for some time. At last, the gunner spoke, admitting he thought he had seen him leaving the bridge just after the captain was killed.

"I want him found and arrested," Krang said angrily. "In the meantime, the Freighter has sustained some serious damage. I want an engineering team over there to help them. Endeavour can supply the medics. Kehlan, you speak English - go with them."

* * *

The Federation captain did indeed supply a medical team to the freighter and even sent his head of sickbay, a Vulcan healer named T'lia to assist the Hegh'Ta's medical officer in the treatment of those Klingons injured in the battle. Captain Mackenzie himself came on board the Klingon ship to meet Krang and discuss the situation.

Their meeting was interrupted by the security officer. Koreq called to inform Krang that the missing Ch'vok had been found, hiding in his quarters.

"Bring him to the bridge," Krang decided after thinking for a moment, "Summon the officers. I want everyone assembled there in ten minutes, including those on the away team."

Turning to the Federation officer, he said, "Captain, you are welcome to stay and witness to this if you wish, but you should be warned. I may wear a Starfleet uniform, but this is not the Federation."

Captain Mackenzie shrugged, saying calmly "I know what to expect from Klingon justice."

The two men, Klingon and Terran walked together onto the bridge where the Klingon crew waited. Two security men had hold of the disgraced First Officer. At a nod from Krang they released him.

Well, Ch'vok," Krang asked harshly, "Have you no explanation for the crew you let down with your cowardice?"

"I'm no coward," Ch'vok insisted, "You're just a passenger on this ship. I'm in charge now the captain's dead."

"Why did you desert your post?" Krang snapped.

"The captain was killed and the bridge was destroyed," Ch'vok said, suddenly afraid. "We were losing the battle. I was going to launch an escape pod and send out a call for help."

There was a murmuring, growing in volume as the assembled officers listened in disbelief to Ch'vok's excuses. Krang held up a hand to silence them and the room quietened again, waiting for Krang to give judgement. "Ch'vok, you have admitted that you left your post during battle and that you intended to abandon the ship. Have you no excuses at all?"

Ch'vok gave no answer. There was nothing he could say without condemning himself further. Desperately he looked around him, hoping for some sign of support from his fellow officers, but there was none forthcoming. Everyone present knew that the first officer's actions had endangered the ship and almost cost them the battle. And to admit like that that he'd been going to abandon the ship. This time, Ch'vok had finally and irrevocably gone too far. Klingon justice was swift and harsh - there was only one penalty.

"Nothing to say, Ch'vok?" Krang asked again. "This is your last chance to redeem yourself."

The disgraced Klingon stared at Krang, saying nothing, but the fear showed in his face as he saw the lack of mercy in Krang's eyes.

Krang realised he had no choice. It was now his duty to kill Ch'vok. Noticing that the Klingon had been disarmed, he said harshly, "Someone give him a knife."

There was hesitation. The Klingon d'k'tahg was a symbol of honour and no-one wanted to lend their blade to a proven coward.

"I said, someone give him a knife," Krang repeated.

Still no-one moved. Then, slowly and with obvious reluctance, Kehlan removed her knife from its sheath and handed it, hilt first, to Ch'vok. The first officer took the weapon from her, then with a trace of his old arrogance, pushed her out of his way. She gave a low growl, but did not otherwise react. Unlike the others, she had known Krang for a long time and had fought at his side. She knew his abilities and knew that in a few minutes, Ch'vok would be dead. He had been dead in fact, from the moment he had deserted the bridge, but by allowing him to fight rather than just executing him, Krang was giving him the dignity of an honourable death.

Pulling his d'k'tahg from the belt of his Federation uniform, Krang activated the triple blade and took a step forward. Ch'vok swung at him and he countered easily. The dishonoured first officer feinted to one side before striking again. Krang countered for a second time, watching his opponent carefully and judging his skills. Ch'vok lunged for a third time, and Krang was reminded of the dead captain's words – adequate and no more. Even now, in a fight to the death, those words perfectly summed up Ch'vok's abilities. This time Ch'vok had left himself wide open to attack and Krang was quick to take advantage. With one swift motion, he thrust his knife straight into the other man's chest. Krang twisted the blade before removing it and Ch'vok's eyes widened in shock and pain, then slowly dulled as the life drained from them. As the dying man slumped to the floor, Krang shoved the knife, still wet with blood, back into his belt before proclaiming "I am Krang son of Marek of the House of Inigan. I now take formal command of this vessel. Do any of you wish to challenge my right to do so?"

The crew were silent for a moment, then Kargan, the second officer stepped forward. Krang tensed but relaxed again when he heard Kargan's words. "You got us through that battle. I for one will follow you – to _Gre'thor_ and beyond if that's what it takes."

"So will I!" called out the helmsman, and a third voice shouted, "Me too." Suddenly the crew were chanting his name, "Krang! Krang! Krang!" amidst the tumultuous cheering.

Krang held up a hand, quietening them. "Good. Then that's settled." He looked around, appraising his officers, then continued, "Kargan, you're promoted to commander. You'll take over the duties of the first officer. And you, gunnery officer… Vareq isn't it?"

The gunner nodded.

"How long ago did you graduate?"

The young Klingon looked embarrassed, "Actually sir, I didn't," he told the captain. "I should have finished my academy training next year."

"I was in the last class to graduate," Kargan informed the captain, explaining, "Vareq and the others were pulled out early because of the war – there weren't enough qualified officers to man the fleet."

Kahless, Krang thought, surprised. No wonder they all looked so young, half of them were still cadets. Well if this was the calibre of the officers the Klingon military academy was turning out, then he was glad to have them.

"Well Vareq, you'll take over as second officer, with a promotion to lieutenant commander. You can start by selecting one of your men to take over as gunnery officer."

Kehlan stirred. She was senior to Vareq, but he had been promoted over her and she didn't like it. Unknowingly, her hand strayed to the knife she had just retrieved from Ch'vok's lifeless body.

Krang saw the motion and growled. "Take your hand off your knife, Kehlan," he said. "I have other plans for you."

Kehlan's hand tightened on the d'k'tahg, but after a moment, she did as she was told. "And what plans might those be?" she asked coolly.

"Captain Mackenzie needs a new first officer," Krang said, enjoying her surprised reaction to his words. The two men had talked of many things during their earlier meeting and each had been pleasantly surprised to find that their views were compatible. Endeavour was, he had learned, desperately short of senior officers. This at least was something he could help with. Not that Hegh'Ta was over-blessed with experienced officers but he could manage without a science officer and Kehlan was in his opinion, wasted in that role. "You're ideally suited for the position, so I'm sending you over to the Endeavour. You will remain a Defence Force officer, but for the duration you will answer to Starfleet. Oh, and you'll hold the rank of commander."

Turning away from Kehlan he addressed the chief engineer, telling him to get the repairs finished. "Nobody goes off duty until the ship is back in fighting condition" he finished. "Now, any questions?"

There was silence.

Krang gave a satisfied nod. "Then go about your duties." And gesturing towards the corpse at his feet, "One last thing, someone get this useless _petaQ_ off my bridge." With that he stepped across the bridge and seated himself in the captain's chair.


	4. Chapter 4

Captain James Mackenzie had been in command of the Endeavour for several years now and he knew his ship inside out. A Nebula class ship, Endeavour was a little over 440m long and 130m high with a crew capacity of 750. She carried the new style of equipment pod, giving her an impressive array of weapons and sensors. Since the Dominion war though, all the civilians and families had been off-loaded, leaving the ship seriously under-crewed. Until today's battle there had been 220 people on board, now he had just lost another three, including his acting first officer, killed instantly when a plasma valve had exploded in his face.

Captain Mackenzie's orders were to remain out in Dominion controlled space for as long as possible and cause as much trouble as he possibly could. The mission was a dangerous one. The constant fighting was taking its toll and Captain Mackenzie had lost his original first officer just over a month ago. He still felt regret for his loss, he had served with the man for a long time and had known him well.

The Klingon captain's offer of a new first officer had caught him by surprise but he had been pleased to accept. He needed the help and from her personnel file, it appeared that the newly promoted Commander Kehlan was good at her job. With her science background she would be doubly useful. She had studied science and after graduation, had won a scholarship to study at a Terran university after which she had completed a further year's postgraduate study at the Vulcan Science Academy. Five years ago she had been one of those chosen to represent the Klingon Empire at a major science conference on Frontera. Immediately afterwards she had joined the Defence Force and since then had been serving as Captain Kay'vin's science officer, firstly on the gruesomely named IKV Death Hand and then on Hegh'Ta. She was now twenty nine years old. He made a mental note to organise a training programme for her, to allow her to become more familiar with Starfleet methods and procedures. He knew that she would find serving on Endeavour very different from the Klingon ships she was used to.

He found himself wondering about Hegh'Ta's new captain. From his age and bearing, Krang was obviously an experienced officer, used to being in command. He wore a Starfleet security uniform with commander's rank pins but his attitude, even allowing for the typical Klingon arrogance, was one of seniority. Interested he accessed the other man's personnel record and was surprised to find it was very brief. Six years ago Krang _epetai_ Inigan had been assigned to the USS Enterprise as assistant security chief with the rank of lieutenant. At about the same time, he had been hailed a 'Hero of the Klingon Empire' by Chancellor Gowron, an accolade that was not given out lightly. Yet there were no reasons given for the award. After the Enterprise was destroyed Krang had been promoted and reassigned as security chief on Frontera, which was listed as his current assignment. Just six years.

Getting more interested, Captain Mackenzie began to investigate but there was nothing in either the Federation or Klingon databases, not even a date of birth. It was as though six years ago, the Klingon had not existed. Reading the record again, something else caught his attention. Krang _epetai_ Inigan. The honorific ' _epetai_ ' was one given only to the very highest ranking Klingon officers. Then he remembered hearing one of the Klingons addressing Krang as Security Captain. What did that mean?

"Computer," he said, "check the database for the term 'Klingon Security Captain' and define it."

 _"That information is classified,"_ the computer answered.

Captain Mackenzie sighed. This was proving more difficult than he had imagined. "Computer, accept authorisation Captain James Mackenzie, sigma six four six, level ten alpha."

 _"Clearance code accepted. Accessing required information. Please stand by."_ After a moment, the computer continued, _"The term 'Captain of Security' is a title given to the six most senior officers of the Klingon Imperial Intelligence Bureau, a rank which answers only to the Imperial Operations Master and the Chancellor of the Klingon Empire."_

Captain Mackenzie whistled. Powerful indeed, he thought. "Computer, list current officers holding this rank."

 _"Unable to comply,"_ the computer responded, _"That information is unavailable."_

Was Krang one of those six Captains of Security? And if he was, then why was a senior member of what was essentially the Klingon secret police serving as a Starfleet officer? There was a mystery here, Captain Mackenzie knew. He wondered if he would ever manage to solve it.

* * *

The freighter had been badly damaged in the attack and it took the Federation and Klingon engineers three days to get it space-worthy again. Even then, the stricken ship wasn't going anywhere under its own power. As soon as the engineers agreed that it could withstand warp speed, Endeavour engaged its tractor beam, taking the vessel under tow and began to head back towards Federation space with Hegh'Ta taking up a defensive position at the rear.

Krang had been surprised that he had lost only six crew members in the battle, including Hegh'Ta's captain and the executed first officer. The final body count would have been higher but the Vulcan T'lia had worked wonders and several men that had been expected to die of their injuries, owed their lives to her dedication. Their recovery would be slow, but it was expected that they would eventually be able to return to active duty.

T'lia had been horrified at the conditions in Hegh'Ta's sickbay and had insisted on having the casualties beamed over to her own facility on the Endeavour. Krang had agreed. He knew just how primitive Klingon medicine was, in part due to the cultural bias that the sick should die and only the strong should live. In fact, Hegh'Ta did not even have a qualified doctor on board, only a nurse. While he did not condone weakness, Krang believed that the Empire was losing too many good warriors in this war and that treating their wounds and returning them whole and uninjured to the field of battle, could only be a good thing. Of course, he was well aware that his thinking was influenced by the many years he had spent with access to proper medicine while living in the Federation.

Progress back to Federation space was painfully slow. Despite all the repairs, the freighter's structural integrity field could withstand no more than warp two and the journey that had taken Hegh'Ta only an hour at maximum warp, would now take them almost four weeks.

Both Krang and Captain Mackenzie would be very glad when the journey was over. Merchant and Starfleet officers did not tend to get on very well, each believing they were superior to the other and the Orinoco's captain, a short, portly man named Mansfield, was no exception.

The man had been very relieved that the two ships had come to his rescue, but even as he thanked them, he had been unable to resist adding a few complaints, wanting to know what had taken them so long, and what was Starfleet playing at anyway, leaving a defenceless freighter to travel without protection?

Actually, Captain Mackenzie hated to admit it, but the freighter captain had a point. The war with the Dominion was not going well and this was a dangerous part of space. A ship loaded with refugees as the Orinoco was, should have had a Starfleet escort. It was now his duty to provide that escort and ensure that the refugees arrived safely at their destination.

* * *

Kehlan packed her belongings into her kitbag and took one last look around the tiny cabin she had called home for the past few years. She was excited about her promotion and looking forward to her new duties, but a little apprehensive as well. She had never even been on board a Starfleet vessel and now she was supposed to take over as first officer. Even if it was only for a short time, it was still a massive responsibility. Krang obviously thought she was capable or he would not have recommended her for the role; she hoped she could live up to his faith in her. She was Klingon, she reminded herself; she could do this. With that optimistic thought in her mind, she turned and headed towards the transporter room. Reaching the transporter room she was surprised to find Captain Krang there waiting for her. No longer wearing his Starfleet uniform, he had changed into Klingon armour, although he wore no sash or insignia to denote his rank. Not that he needed it, she thought, whatever he wore, no-one would ever mistake him for anything but a senior officer. He had been speaking with the transporter operator when she came in, but seeing her, he looked up with a smile. "Ah, there you are, Kehlan. Ready to go?"

"Yes sir," she said, taking a deep breath and stepping up onto the transporter pad, "I'm ready."

With a curt gesture, Krang dismissed the transporter operator and the officer left, the door shutting behind him, leaving Krang and Kehlan alone in the transporter room. "You're a good officer, Kehlan," Krang said, intuitively sensing her nervousness. "You'll do fine on Endeavour." As he spoke, he moved over to the console, checking the controls and programming in the coordinates.

Kehlan stared at him in surprise. How had he known? But she made no comment, saying only _"Qapla'!"_ and offering him the Klingon salute.

With a nod of acknowledgement, he activated the controls and Kehlan felt the transporter beam take her. The room faded around her and after a moment of nothingness, the transporter room of the USS Endeavour began to solidify around her. She blinked several times as her eyes adjusted to the brightness of the light and the room came fully into focus. Two uniformed officers stood there. One, in a yellow uniform, was obviously the Endeavour's transporter operator, the other wore a marines uniform with rank pins, that if she was reading them correctly, denoted him as being a major. Her guess was confirmed when he spoke. "Welcome on board. I'm Major Philip Speares, the marines commander and second officer."

His tone was warm and friendly and Kehlan found herself smiling in response. "I am Commander Kehlan," she told him with a grin, "I'd ask permission to come aboard but as I'm already here, it's a little after the fact."

"Well, since you outrank me," he said cheerfully, "I'm only going to get to say this once, so I might as well enjoy it. Permission granted."

Kehlan stepped down from the transporter pad. That was a good start. If all the officers made her as welcome as this one had, she would get on fine here.

"The captain wants to see you," Major Speares told her, "I'll show you to his ready room." Seeing her start to lift her kitbag, he continued, "You can leave that here. One of the yeomen will take it to your quarters."

Acknowledging, she followed him from the room and along the corridor to the turbolift. Several crewmembers passed them, going about their duties, and Kehlan was aware of their stares, but she saw no animosity in their expressions, only curiosity. They were obviously wondering who this Klingon newcomer was. Well, they would find out soon enough, she thought.

The Endeavour was a big ship and even with the aid of the turbolift it took them several minutes to reach the bridge, but eventually they did reach their destination and the turbolift door slid open with a slight swishing sound, to reveal the bridge. It was a large, roughly circular room and like the rest of the ship, brightly lit.

The captain's ready room was located on the same side of the bridge as the turbolift. With only a few steps, they crossed the bridge and Major Speares pressed the chime.

A voice from within called "Come in" and the door swished open, revealing the Captain's private office.

With a quick glance at Major Speares, Kehlan walked into the room and the doors closed behind her. "Commander Kehlan reporting for duty, sir," she said formally. This was actually her third meeting with the Federation captain – she had encountered him on board the Orinoco while she was working with the damage control teams and then later he had been present on the Hegh'Ta when Captain Krang had officially taken command of the ship. But now, for the first time she was meeting him as his subordinate, a member of his crew.

The captain looked up and smiled at his new first officer. "Welcome to the Endeavour," he said, "Take a seat, there are a few things we need to discuss and then I'll give you a tour of the ship."


	5. Chapter 5

The Klingon captain watched as the transporter shimmered and soundlessly dematerialised the newly promoted Commander Kehlan, sending her to her new duties on board the Federation vessel. He himself had spent several years serving on such a vessel, an experience that had been both interesting and challenging. He had every confidence in Kehlan and he knew that once she got past the initial culture shock, she would thrive in Starfleet.

He turned and left the transporter room, heading back to his new quarters. For the few weeks that he was likely to be in command of the Hegh'Ta, it hadn't seemed worth moving into the captain's quarters, but it had proved necessary. The crew expected it. There was little difference between this room and the guest quarters, but the computer facilities were better and he was surprised to find that Captain Kay'vin had had an old-fashioned water shower installed as well as the more usual sonic shower. That was one luxury that he would be glad to take advantage of. But that would have to wait until later. Right now, he had work to do and he might as well get on with it.

* * *

Finally left alone in her luxurious new quarters, Kehlan unpacked the few items she had brought with her and put them away. She glanced at the time. 16:00, mid afternoon. She was not due to begin her new duties until the following morning which meant she had the rest of the day with nothing to do. Her tour of the ship had been interesting and nothing had been held back, including the more restricted parts of the ship. But there was still a lot to learn about the Endeavour. Deciding to put her spare time to good use, she sat down at the computer console and activated it.

"Computer, display internal schematics of the USS Endeavour," she requested.

 _"_ _Access denied."_

Kehlan frowned. "Computer, display ship's operations manual."

 _"_ _Access denied."_

Her frown deepened. How could she do her job if even the most basic computer files were denied her? Suppressing the urge to kick the computer she decided that the best course of action was to simply ask the captain for authorisation. She touched the combadge she had been given earlier that day. "Kehlan to Captain Mackenzie."

 _"_ _Captain Mackenzie here. What can I do for you, Commander?"_

"I require access to the computer system," she told the captain. "I wish to study the ship's systems before I begin my duties, but I do not have the necessary clearance."

 _"_ _No problem,"_ the reply came back _, "For now you can use one of my codes - Gamma four six four Epsilon. I'll get your own clearance sorted out by the start of your shift tomorrow morning."_

"Thank you Captain." Cutting the connection she turned back to the computer console. "Computer, display internal schematics of the USS Endeavour. Clearance code Gamma Four six four Epsilon."

 _"_ _Working."_ The computer made a chirping noise and the required information appeared on her screen. Satisfied, Kehlan settled herself down and began to read. She had finished with the schematics and operations manual and was studying the personnel files when her stomach rumbled, reminding her that she hadn't eaten since breakfast and that she was hungry. Checking the time again, she was surprised to find that it was now 20:30 and that she had been engrossed in her reading for several hours. She considered her options and decided to go and get something to eat from Ten Forward. Some of her new colleagues were bound to be in there at this time and she might as well start getting to know them.

Ten Forward was at least easy to find. Rather obviously, it was on deck ten in the forward part of the ship. It didn't seem worth taking the turbolift just to go down two decks so she took the stairs. It took only a minute for her to reach the lounge. As she approached the doors, they swished open and a pair of junior officers, dressed in yellow engineering uniforms, stepped through and headed towards the turbolift, giving Kehlan friendly nods as they passed her.

Kehlan stood for a moment in the open doorway, taking a good look around her before going inside. She hesitated, a little unsure of the procedure for ordering food.

The bar tender must have seen her hesitation because he came over and gave her a friendly smile. "Hi, I'm Bart," the man said, "I'm the holographic bar tender and I run this place. What can I get you?"

A holographic bar tender? Kehlan had heard of the Federation's use of Emergency Medical Holograms, but this was something new. Deciding not to query it for the moment, Kehlan considered the more important issue – what did she want to eat? There didn't seem much point in ordering Klingon food, it wouldn't taste very good out of a replicator and anyway, she could get the real thing any time she wanted on board the Hegh'Ta. She had got used to Terran ideas about cooking during her year on Earth although she hoped that the Endeavour's replicators were better than the ones at the university she had attended. The food there had been truly awful and even the Terran students had complained about it. There had been a good selection of cafés and restaurants though, and they had eaten out whenever possible.

"What do you recommend?"

The bar tender thought for a moment. "How about roast chicken?"

Kehlan shook her head. Klingon food was eaten very fresh and in some cases, live. The thought of eating replicated dead flesh did not appeal at all. "There was something I tried on Earth once" she said thoughtfully, "I can't remember what it was called. It had layers of meat or vegetable with pasta and a sort of white sauce on top."

"I think you mean lasagne," Bart said, "Would you like the meat or vegetable version?"

"Vegetable," Kehlan said, knowing she had surprised him with that decision. Everyone expected Klingons to be carnivorous. But at least vegetables were meant to be cooked. "And I'd like a glass of chilled prune juice."

"No problem," Bart said cheerfully, "Find yourself a table and I'll bring it over in a minute."

Kehlan acknowledged and moved away from the bar, trying to decide where to go. While the lounge was not over full and there were plenty of empty tables, most of those occupied were full and she did not want to eat alone.

Sitting at a crowded table with other senior officers, Major Speares caught sight of Kehlan and waved to her, inviting her to join them. She hesitated as there did not seem to be any space, but he nudged his colleagues and they obligingly shuffled their chairs over a bit to make room for the newcomer and one of them moved over to an empty table to grab an extra chair.

Accepting the invitation, Kehlan went over to the group and took the offered chair. As she did so, Bart arrived with her food and placed it in front of her. Tasting it cautiously she was pleasantly surprised to find that it was actually very good. Endeavour's replicators were definitely better than those at her old university.

The Vulcan healer T'lia was engaged in a game of tri-dimensional chess with the head of engineering, Chief Argyle. It was a game that Kehlan enjoyed and she studied the board with interest. As she watched, Argyle picked up the gold bishop and moved it to the upper level. T'lia frowned very slightly and Kehlan thought she understood why. In moving the bishop, Argyle had left his queen dangerously exposed to attack from T'lia's rook. Sure enough, T'lia had seen the opportunity but as the Vulcan prepared to make her move, Kehlan realised what Argyle was planning. His move had been risky, but clever. The outcome of the game would be determined by what T'lia did next. If she took the bait she would lose the game but if she was able to avoid the carefully laid trap it would be disastrous for Argyle.

"That was not a logical move," T'lia accused, picking up the gold queen and replacing it with her silver rook as she spoke. "Check."

"Maybe not logical," Kehlan said, unable to resist butting in. "But it was a damn good move all the same."

Argyle looked up then. "Do ye play, lass?" At her nod, he gestured to the board, "What do you think?"

Kehlan took a good look at the board. "Gold to checkmate in three moves," she said confidently.

T'lia's frown deepened. "I admit that I am not an expert at this game," the Vulcan woman said, "but I cannot envision the result you are predicting."

Argyle grinned at Kehlan. "You want to show her?"

Kehlan did so and a moment later, the Vulcan stared in consternation at the trap she had fallen into. "I maintain that it was a highly illogical move," T'lia said ruefully, "Nevertheless, it was a very effective one." She sighed. "As you can see, there is a good reason why I do not often play this game."

"She's the only one who's crazy enough to take him on," Major Speares said, "The rest of us gave up long ago."

Putting back the pieces she had altered, Kehlan said, "Now, if you had ignored the trap and tried this…" Picking up the silver bishop, she moved it two spaces and waited expectantly for the engineer's reaction.

"Damn," Argyle swore, forced to move his king backwards out of danger.

About to continue the attack, Kehlan stiffened as an almost subliminal shudder seemed to run through the ship. She glanced at the other officers, but they seemed unaware of it. "Did anyone else feel that?" Kehlan enquired.

"Feel what?" the communications officer asked.

Argyle gestured back towards the board. "Get on with it and stop trying to distract me."

Kehlan gave a low growl. "I do not need to resort to such tactics," she told him, bringing in the knight to further the attack on the gold king. "I felt a shudder."

It was the engineer's turn to stare at the board in consternation. "Damn," he swore again, forced to retreat a second time."

Bringing the silver queen sweeping down the board, Kehlan made the final killing move. "I believe that is checkmate."

Leaving the two combatants to mull over the game, Kehlan returned to her now rapidly cooling lasagne. She had barely taken a bite when she felt another slight shudder.

"Can't anyone else feel that?" she demanded.

T'lia nodded, "I felt it. I believe we may be approaching an ion storm." The Vulcan woman offered Argyle an innocent glance before adding" "Either that or there's an engine malfunction."

"There's no malfunction in my engines." Argyle's growl was almost Klingon in his indignation.

The ship shook again and this time it was strong enough for the other officers to feel. Argyle got up. "I'm going down to engineering."

The ship's comm. system shrilled as another shudder racked the ship and Captain Mackenzie's voice called, _"Senior officers to the bridge."_

Putting down her fork, Kehlan joined the other officers heading towards the turbolift. Technically, she was not due to take over her duties until the following morning and she was unsure whether the summons included her. But she was to be Endeavour's first officer and she could not sit around and do nothing while the ship went into possible danger. It was time for her to do her duty.


	6. Chapter 6

The doors of the turbolift opened and the group of senior officers spilled out onto the bridge. Without hesitation, Kehlan headed straight for the science console. That was where she could do the most good right now. Her knowledge of Endeavour's systems was still limited but there were only so many ways to present scientific data. Fingers flying over the panel, she began to pull up information from the ship's sensors. As she worked, she observed the easy way the crew worked together and listened carefully to the ebb and flow of information between the captain and his officers. It was evident that they had been working together for a long time.

She scanned the data on her console. It was not good enough, she decided, focusing all her concentration on the task at hand. She was aware that the sensor system she was using was more advanced than Klingon sensors, but whoever had programmed them had not made the fullest use of their capabilities.

"Commander Kehlan?"

With a start, she realised the captain was addressing her and she did not yet have all the information he needed. "I'll have the information in a moment, Captain" she answered, not looking up as she continued to re-programme the computer. Entering the final command, she slipped around the blockage and found what she needed.

"It is a level six ion storm," she reported, sending the technical data to the captain's console as she spoke. "The signs indicate it will increase in intensity to level seven, possibly even level eight although it should dissipate in a few hours. It should be no danger to the Endeavour provided we keep our shields up."

"What about the freighter?"

"The Orinoco's shields are in poor condition," Kehlan said, "They are not strong enough to protect the ship. I would suggest that we move closer and extend our shields around it."

"Very well," Captain Mackenzie said, "Do it."

"Aye sir," the helm officer acknowledged as he obeyed the captain's order, bringing the Endeavour closer to the damaged freighter. "We are now in position"

"Extending shields, sir," The officer at the operations console said, "The Orinoco is now fully shielded."

The communications officer looked up from his console. "Captain, a message is coming through from the Orinoco. The engineering team are requesting permission to beam back on board."

Reading through the technical data that was continuing to come through to her console, Kehlan frowned. "Sir, it would not be a good idea to use the transporters during the storm."

Captain Mackenzie gave a nod of agreement. "Send a message to the away team," he said, "Tell them they'll have to stay on the Orinoco until the storm is over."

Outside the ship, the intensity of the ion storm was increasing and the shuddering was almost constant. Occasionally a stronger gust hit the ship, causing it to shake more violently.

Endeavour's bridge crew were quiet now. They would all remain on duty until the storm was over and the danger was past. There was nothing to do now, but wait it out.

The ion storm raged for several hours before dying down in the early hours of the morning. Finally Captain Mackenzie was able to send his tired bridge officers off duty to get some rest. The juniors had had an easy night of it, they could hold the fort for a while.

* * *

Almost a week after the ion storm, Kehlan was sitting in the captain's chair on the bridge of the Endeavour. It had been a very busy week, each day filled with intensive training. But today was different. Today she had taken her first duty shift on the bridge without the captain's presence. It seemed strange to be sitting in his chair. On a Klingon ship, the captain's chair would remain empty if the commanding officer were not present, no-one else would ever use it. But there were many things Kehlan found strange about serving on a Federation ship. The Endeavour was cooler and much more brightly lit than the Hegh'Ta, in fact the whole feel of the ship was different. Her red and black commander's uniform was ridiculously comfortable compared to the armour she was accustomed to, but she felt naked without her d'k'tahg. It hadn't seemed appropriate though, to wear it with her Federation uniform. Not that she really needed it, she consoled herself, she could defend herself without it and it wasn't as if anyone on this ship was any threat to her.

She glanced at the time. Nothing of interest had happened in the last few hours. Only ten more minutes and the gamma shift would come on duty, she would hand over to Major Speares, the marines commander and acting second officer and her first solo shift would be over.

"Commander Kehlan," One of the officers, an Andorian, named if she remembered correctly, Lieutenant Ch'Pesh, attracted her attention, "I'm detecting something on long range scanners."

"What is it, Ch'Pesh?"

"I'm not sure, sir," the lieutenant responded, "It's too far out to show up clearly, but I think it may be a ship."

"Magnify the image."

"It's already at full magnification," the Andorian told her.

Kehlan got up and moved over to the tactical station, looking over Ch'Pesh's shoulder at the display. "Try tightening the focal array… ah, that's a little better." The picture sharpened, but it still wasn't quite enough to interpret the image on the screen. The Andorian officer moved out of the way, allowing Kehlan access as she made further adjustments to the system. She watched, satisfied as the image became clearer and finally came into focus.

"It's Jem'Hadar," she said, "Not really surprising out here, I suppose."

Turning to the Terran lieutenant seated at the communications panel, she was about to address him when she realised she had forgotten his name. Pale… no that wasn't quite right. She tried again. Palin. That was it, Samuel Palin. Relieved, she instructed him, "Lieutenant Palin, open a channel to the captain."

* * *

Both Krang and Captain Mackenzie were on board the damaged freighter when the signal from Endeavour came through. The Terran captain was deliberately keeping himself busy to take his mind off his new first officer. Kehlan was settling in well and adapting to life on a Federation starship, but knowing it was her first shift alone, he had to restrain himself from calling to see how she was getting on – that would send a message to his crew that he did not trust her. And he did trust her - she had proved herself to be a good officer. If something happened that required his attention, she would call him. Nevertheless, he found himself continuing to think about her as he inspected the repairs the engineers were still carrying out. The Orinoco was fit for towing and the ships were once again under way, but there was still a lot of work left to be done while they were travelling. His combadge bleeped and he touched it, in acknowledgement.

"Sir, we have picked up signs of a Jem'Hadar attack ship on long range scanners," Kehlan informed her captain.

"Have they detected us?" Captain Mackenzie asked.

"Not yet, sir," Kehlan replied, "We are still at extreme sensor range."

"Well done Commander," the Captain said. "I'll beam back in a few minutes. Let me know if there's any change." Closing the comm. link, he looked at his fellow captain. "A single Jem'Hadar ship. I doubt it'll come close enough for us to take it though. Pity."

"A damaged freighter and lone starship should lure it in closer," Krang said thoughtfully, "Make it look as though Endeavour is in trouble. I'll cloak Hegh'Ta and drop back a little."

Mackenzie considered the idea. "Didn't Defiant try something similar with the Rotarran? I seem to remember reading the mission report. It worked well as I recall."

"Correct," Krang said, "Let's see if it proves equally successful for us."

"Understood," The Terran captain said, "We'd better get back to our ships."

Beaming back to Endeavour, Captain Mackenzie headed straight to the bridge. Switching the main screen to the aft view, he watched in satisfaction as the Hegh'Ta began to drop back and then as the cloaking device took effect, the image flickered and disappeared, leaving only the stars visible on the screen.

Sending the ship to yellow alert Captain Mackenzie began to give orders, putting his part of the plan into motion. "Weaken the tractor beam," he instructed, "and drop the power supply to half. I want us to appear vulnerable."

Kehlan glanced at her panel. "The Jem'Hadar vessel has detected us, Captain," she reported. "It's moving closer. At current velocity it should reach us in thirty two minutes."

"So far so good," Captain Mackenzie said, "Be ready to bring the power and weapons systems back on line on my command."

The next thirty minutes crawled by, seeming impossibly slow. Both alpha and gamma shift officers had made an appearance by now – as the ship prepared for combat nobody remained off duty. Inexorably the enemy vessel grew larger and larger on the viewscreen as it approached the seemingly helpless starship and the captain gave the order to go from yellow to red alert.

"Enemy ship is charging weapons," Ch'Pesh said, his voice tense. "They are preparing to fire."

"Just a little longer," Captain Mackenzie said, holding up a hand, "Wait for it…"

Where was Hegh'Ta, the captain wondered as the enemy gun-ports opened? He couldn't afford to wait any longer. Dropping his hand, he gave the signal his crew were waiting for. "NOW!"

Instantly there was a flurry of activity as the powered down systems came back on line. "Full power to shields," Kehlan growled, "Opening fire."

Glancing at the viewscreen, Captain Mackenzie saw the Hegh'Ta decloak directly above the Jem'Hadar cruiser, wings lowered into the attack position, its disrupter cannons spitting green death at the enemy ship.

The massive cruiser shook violently, soundless explosions blooming along its flank as both Federation and Klingon weapons tore into it. But the Jem'Hadar were no cowards and the ship kept coming. Moments later, it was Endeavour's turn to shake as a volley of torpedoes crashed into it.

"Initiating evasive manoeuvres," Kehlan said, knowing as she spoke, that any such manoeuvres must by necessity, be limited. There was still the damaged freighter to protect – the Jem'Hadar could not be allowed to get near it.

Another volley smashed into the saucer section and this time, the ship lurched heavily, throwing them violently to the floor, alarms sounding as consoles exploded in a shower of sparks.

Captain Mackenzie got to his feet, and looking around to survey the damage, he saw Kehlan doing the same. She was cradling one arm to her body.

"I think I've broken my wrist" she said tersely, seeing the captain's look of enquiry. "I'm all right" Seating herself at a damaged console, she began, with only her left hand, to re-route power, trying to bring the systems back up to full strength.

The communications officer hadn't been so lucky. He lay motionless on the floor where he had fallen. Checking on the stricken lieutenant, Captain Mackenzie was pleased to find that the man was still breathing. Touching his combadge, he called, "Bridge to sickbay. We need a medical team up here."

 _"We'll have someone with you as soon as possible."_ T'lia's voice, calm and reassuring came over the intercom.

Captain Mackenzie felt something warm trickling down the side of his face. Reaching up, he touched it and was surprised to see blood on his fingers. He must have hit his head when he fell, he thought, funny that he hadn't even felt it. Wiping the blood out of his eyes, he checked the tactical display on screen, and saw Hegh'Ta come swooping gracefully between Endeavour and the enemy cruiser, its disruptors firing again and again. Every shot hit its mark. The Jem'Hadar ship was in trouble now, although still dangerous. Giving orders, he sent Endeavour in a tight turn, simultaneously firing both phasers and photon torpedoes at the enemy vessel. The weapons of the two ships found their target and the cruiser's shields flickered heavily before going down completely. Vulnerable now, the enemy ship turned to flee. Too late. Sending one last volley, the crew gave a ragged cheer as the Jem'Hadar vessel exploded.


	7. Chapter 7

The two ships escorting the Orinoco got lucky. Two weeks into their journey back to Federation space, they encountered a convoy of freighters, heavily guarded by a fleet of Klingon ships and were able to hand over responsibility for the damaged vessel to the commander of the leading attack-cruiser.

General Talak was a tall, rather overweight man, his appearance marred by years of overindulging in blood-wine and _gagh_. He was still however a formidable warrior and a fine commander with an impressive battle record.

"We're escorting this lot to Khitomer," Talak told Krang, handing him a large mug of blood-wine. "Then we're free to join the war again."

"We need every ship out there we can get," Krang said as he took a mouthful. The wine slid down his throat like liquid fire. "This is good," he commented, "It tastes like the Opri vintner."

"You know your blood-wine," Talak said, impressed. "Care to hazard a guess on the year?"

Krang stared at the wine in his mug and took another mouthful. "I'm no expert," he said thoughtfully, "but it's got to be a reserve. I'd estimate about eight years old."

"Nine actually," Talak corrected, picking up the bottle and topping up the mugs. "So, what are your plans?"

Krang thought about the question. He had sent a message to Admiral Portway at Starfleet headquarters on Earth, but had been unable to contact her. Some arrogant _toDSaH_ of a commander in a security uniform had informed him that Admiral Portway was unavailable but had refused to divulge her location, despite the Klingon's insistence that the message was urgent. After some argument however he had agreed to forward on Krang's report. Krang had very much hoped to speak to the admiral personally to discuss the conference with the Federation Council that he had missed. Unfortunately he was going to have to wait until the admiral received his report and contacted him.

There seemed little point now in Hegh'Ta heading towards Earth but he had no other orders. Captain Mackenzie, on the other hand, had pre-existing instructions to cause as much trouble as possible in Dominion controlled space. When he had read Kay'vin's personal log, he discovered that the dead captain's orders, after transporting him to Earth, had been very similar to Endeavour's – to hunt down and kill as many of the enemy as possible. After considering all the options, Krang had decided that for the time being he would join the Endeavour in its mission.

"Until I'm instructed otherwise," Krang told the general, "I intend to find and destroy as many enemy ships as I can. I've spent too long behind a desk, now it's time to fight."

"Sounds like a good plan," Talak said, raising his mug and drinking down its contents in one long gulp. "It's just a pity I'm stuck with this _ghuy'cha_ convoy. Kill a few Jem'Hadar for me, Krang."

Finishing off his own drink, Krang got to his feet, ready to return to his own ship. "It will be my pleasure."

It was eight days before Krang and Captain Mackenzie heard from Starfleet again. By this time they were well away from the convoy and travelling at high warp back towards enemy held space. They had encountered and destroyed the occasional enemy ship but on the whole things had remained quiet.

The two captains sat together at the table in Endeavour's observation lounge as the image of Admiral Portway appeared on the computer screen.

 _"Greetings Captain Mackenzie,"_ the Terran admiral said, _"Commander Krang, you're still out of uniform I see."_

"You already know that I have taken control of Hegh'Ta" Krang informed her stiffly, "Starfleet uniform would be inappropriate under the circumstances."

 _"I quite agree,"_ the admiral said, surprising him. _"Gentlemen, I must inform you that the captain of the Orinoco has put in a formal complaint against you," she told the two officers, "He alleges that your actions recklessly endangered his vessel."_

"The whole incident is fully described in my report," Captain Mackenzie said. "I believe we acted in the best interests of the refugees on board the freighter." He hesitated for a moment, not liking to criticise his superiors. "If I may speak freely?"

 _"Go ahead,"_ the admiral invited, _"You usually do."_

"Why was the Orinoco not given an escort to start with?" Captain Mackenzie queried, "He should never have been allowed to proceed without adequate protection."

 _"I'm told that there were no vessels available for guard duty,"_ Admiral Portway informed him, _"Apparently he was asked to wait a few days for an escort to arrive, but refused. He denies it of course."_

"That doesn't add up," Captain Mackenzie said thoughtfully. "Captain Mansfield's too cautious for that. If he denies it, I would tend to believe him."

"I don't like Captain Mansfield - he's a pain in the neck, but he's not stupid." Krang agreed, "I do not think he would have put his passengers in danger in that way."

At the other end of the comm-link, Admiral Portway considered what the two men were telling her. She had known Captain Mackenzie for years. The Klingon had come under her command only very recently, but he had a good reputation and she knew Starfleet thought highly of him. They were both experienced officers and she had no reason to distrust their judgement. It seemed to her that there was a cover-up somewhere along the line. If someone had deliberately placed the Orinoco and its cargo of refugees in danger... She stopped that thought there, not liking where it was going. She would have to discreetly continue her investigations.

 _"You have both done very well in your handling of the Orinoco incident,"_ Admiral Portway reassured the two captains, _"Starfleet Command has read your reports and after due consideration of Captain Mansfield's complaints, we feel that there was nothing else you could have done under the circumstances. In fact, a commendation will be placed on your records."_

"Thank you Admiral," Captain Mackenzie said.

"I understand you have new orders for us," Krang enquired. Uncomfortable with the unexpected praise, he changed the subject to something he considered more relevant.

 _"Your orders, Captain Mackenzie and Commander Krang, are to return to Qo'noS,"_ Admiral Portway informed them, _"I will meet you there at the First City spaceport to relay further instructions. I am en route there now."_

Then addressing the Klingon, she said, _"It is regrettable that you missed the conference on Earth, but I fully understand why Captain Kay'vin answered the distress call."_ She paused for a moment, reading something on a data padd before continuing, _"The Klingon Imperial Command will appoint a new captain for Hegh'Ta once you reach the Homeworld. In the meantime, Chancellor Gowron has confirmed your temporary appointment to the position."_

"I understand, Admiral," Krang said, "I will continue to serve both Starfleet and the Empire to the best of my ability."

 _"I would expect nothing less,"_ Admiral Portway responded, _"Captain Mackenzie, with regard to your senior officers, we understand and agree with the reasons behind your acceptance of Commander Kehlan as your first officer. Chancellor Gowron wishes her to continue in that role until you return to Qo'noS and Starfleet Command is happy to concur. We'll review the situation when you arrive."_

"Thank you, Admiral," Captain Mackenzie said, pleased. He had hoped for this decision but had been unsure as to whether Starfleet would allow a Defence Force officer to continue serving on a Starship. He had already lost two first officers in the course of the war, and he didn't want to lose a third. This wasn't quite the permanent arrangement he wanted, but it was a start.

 _"I will expect to see both of you on Qo'noS,"_ the admiral told them, _"You're both dismissed."_ And with that, she cut the connection.

* * *

Returning to his own vessel, Krang gave the order to turn the ship around and lay in a course for Qo'noS. He couldn't help feeling disappointed. He had always known that his command of the Hegh'Ta was temporary but he found that he didn't want to give it up. He did miss his family and he knew that the work he had been doing on Frontera was important to the war effort, but he was a Klingon warrior, born and bred to fight, not to sit behind a desk and send others out to battle.

He thought over the conversation with Admiral Portway. She had made it clear that she was not satisfied with the problem of the Orinoco and he suspected that the matter was not yet closed. Had someone deliberately sent Orinoco into harm's way? But who and why? This was a problem he could definitely help with. He had spent years running the Klingon Intelligence network and this was exactly the sort of thing he was trained for. His own access codes were long out of date of course but he had been involved in writing the Empire's security protocols and he would be very surprised if he could not eventually get into the system. But that would come later, once he had checked through the information available in the Starfleet database.

After some consideration he started by pulling up passenger and crew lists to see who had been on board the freighter, cross referencing the lists with details such as planet of origin, race and security clearance. He found nothing unusual, everything checked out as it was supposed to. What about cargo, he wondered? Examining the cargo manifests and comparing it with the bills of lading he found that again, everything checked out.

So far he had been able to find absolutely no reason why someone might have wanted the Orinoco destroyed. He had to be missing something. Krang frowned and began the search again, this time digging deeper. One by one he went through the names on the lists, this time bringing up a full personnel file on each person and cross checking against planetary records and other classified files. Three quarters of the way down the list, he finally found what he was looking for. A Bajoran woman named Jen Maran had been among the refugees onboard the freighter. Bajoran records were admittedly sketchy but a date of birth had been given as 2335, making her 40 years old. In itself there was nothing strange about the data, but the village listed as her place of birth had been destroyed by the Cardassians six months later with no known survivors. Now it was possible that Jen Maran had not been in the village at the time and had escaped the massacre. But it was equally possible that the woman known as Jen Maran was not the original. It wouldn't be the first time that a false ID had been created in this way.

The question Krang now had to ask was, if the woman was a fake, who was she? He seriously doubted that she was a criminal or a freelancer, the cover up had been well done and bore all the hallmarks of a professional job. It was his guess that Jen Maran was probably an intelligence operative trying to get back with sensitive information. And if that was the case, who could have known about it?

If he were to continue guessing, he would put his bets on someone on the Starbase command staff. It would have to be someone in a senior position, with access to classified information. Even with all his experience in intelligence work it had taken him several hours to find out this much and there was still no proof of anything. It was all supposition and he would need a lot more evidence before any accusations could be made.

Deciding to pass on what he had learned so far, Krang recorded a message and encrypted it, sending it on a maximum security frequency to the Federation embassy at Qo'noS, for the personal attention of Admiral Portway. That done, he continued with his investigation.

This time, he turned his attention to the personnel on board the starbase. Reading through their files, it occurred to him that I.I. were almost guaranteed to have an agent on board themselves. It would be sensible, he decided, to find out what information they held on the starbase. Activating the computer again, he entered the I.I. system, carefully navigating his way through the layers of classification to find the information he needed.


	8. Chapter 8

Located not too far from the Council Hall of the First City on Qo'noS, was a tall imposing building that dominated the city skyline. The badges carved into the side of the building marked it as the headquarters of Klingon Imperial Intelligence. Somewhere on one of the upper floors, the Klingon Captain of Security named Moragh _sutai_ Khamran stood looking out of the great hexagonal window of his office. The view was spectacular and he could see all the way across the First City. He turned as the door chimed and his aide came in without waiting for permission.

"What is it, Traig?" he asked in annoyance, "I told you I didn't want to be disturbed."

The newcomer growled. "Sir, we've picked up unauthorised activity in the computer system. Someone's got into the classified files and whatever codes they're using, we can't lock them out."

"What?" Moragh exploded, "How is that even possible? Have you traced the intrusion?"

Traig shook his head, "Not yet, sir, we are working on it."

Cursing, Moragh moved to his desk and began to work. Realising that his assistant was still waiting for instructions, he said "I will take it from here, Colonel. Dismissed."

Already engrossed in the problem before him, he didn't even notice as the aide quietly left, shutting the door behind him. His hands flew over the computer console, quickly and efficiently entering commands, but whoever the infiltrator was, he knew his way around the system as well as Moragh did and it was proving incredibly difficult to shut him out. He succeeded eventually, but only by virtue of carrying out an emergency shutdown and reboot of the entire I.I computer network. It was a contingency that had been put in place by a previous Captain of Security many years ago, but until now had never been needed. Several hours later, with the computers up and running again, on a limited basis at least, Moragh turned his attention to identifying the intruder, a task that with the current restrictions on the computer system, was easier said than done. It was with some effort and another couple of hours work, that he eventually obtained at least part of the answer.

The intrusion had originated off planet, Moragh learned, and appeared to have come from one of the Defence Force's ships, the experimental Hunter class IKC Hegh'Ta.

Tiredly the security captain opened a comm-link to his aide. "Traig, do we have an agent on the Hegh'Ta?"

There was a pause as the Colonel pulled up the required information. _"We did, sir,"_ Traig informed him, _"Unfortunately he was listed as killed in battle a few days ago."_

Moragh frowned. That was not the most helpful of answers. Sighing, he began to pull up information about the Hegh'Ta, its mission and crew. None of this made any sense. Even if someone had found the dead agent's transceiver, which was unlikely, the agent had been a relatively junior one and his clearance codes would not have allowed access this deep into classified files. There should be no-one on board the IKC Hegh'Ta with the skills necessary to get that far.

Seeing that the bird-of-prey was travelling with a Federation ship, the USS Endeavour, Moragh pulled up the crew manifest for that ship was well. The intruder was unlikely to be a non-Klingon, but it was worth checking. Some Vulcans were known to have almost uncanny computer skills. But there was nothing abnormal about either ship. Other than the Hegh'Ta's new captain, the only unknown factor was the newly promoted Commander Kehlan. All the other officers checked out, but the Endeavour's new first officer was Houseless and that meant there were no guarantees of her loyalty. The very fact that she had taken a promotion onto a Federation ship was enough reason for him to question that loyalty although career-wise, Morgah had to admit it had been a good move - rightly or wrongly, the Empire did not allow the Houseless to reach high rank.

Interested now, he opened her file and began to read. She had spent two years in the Federation as a student, he noted. Who knew what influences she had come under during that time? He noted also that it was after coming into contact with Captain Krang that she had unexpectedly given up a promising career in the bio-sciences to join the Defence Force as a junior officer and he wondered what had prompted her to make that decision. He sent a memo to his aide to have her brought in for routine questioning once the two ships arrived back at Qo'noS.

Moragh had already noted Hegh'Ta's recent change of command, and now he pulled up the new captain's personnel file and cross checked it against the intelligence database. A Klingon serving in Starfleet and now in command of a Defence Force ship? There was a case of mixed loyalty if ever he had seen one. There was almost no information available about Krang _epetai_ Inigan and Moragh was surprised to find that what little there was, went back only six years. Digging deeper into the files however proved fruitless and when the computer steadfastly refused him access to the hidden files, he swore in frustration and placed a call to the Operations Master, the ultimate head of Klingon Imperial Intelligence.

He was lucky. Despite his horrendously bad mood after the events of the day, Lorgh had complete faith in his Captains of Security and as soon as Moragh had explained the problem he released the files to him instantly. He also grumpily suggested that Moragh would do well to contact Krang and give him whatever help was needed. Such a suggestion from the Operations Master was not to be taken lightly, it was in fact a thinly veiled order.

* * *

Half an hour later, having settled down to read the highly classified document that the Operations Master had given him, Moragh sat staring at it in stunned disbelief. Initially he had not comprehended his superior officer's attitude but reading the information in the hidden file, the order began to make sense. He also understood why the file was wrapped in so many layers of classification and why its contents could never be made public.

Some strange twist of time and fate had decreed that there were seven Captains of Security, not six as he had always believed, the seventh being Krang _epetai_ Inigan even if he no longer claimed that rank.

Going back to the beginning he started to read the document again, more carefully this time. It was a complicated and convoluted story that was almost unbelievable. Krang had been fifteen when he joined Imperial Intelligence. He had risen quickly through the ranks, but his career had been ended by a mission gone bad and the charges of treason that had followed, causing the defection to the Federation of one of the best officers Imperial Intelligence had ever had.

Interestingly, despite the charge of treason and the death sentence that had been passed in Krang's absence, his rank and clearances had never actually been revoked although whether that was an oversight or a deliberate choice on the part of those in charge at the time, Moragh did not know. For someone so high in Imperial Intelligence to have betrayed the Empire was unthinkable to Moragh yet there was no question that Krang was guilty of the charges. Despite that, six years ago Gowron had not only pardoned him, but declared him a 'Hero of the Empire' for his actions and Moragh found that he could not disagree with the chancellor's assessment of the situation. Had Krang acted differently then it was very possible that the Klingon Empire might not now exist.

It was immediately evident that Krang was indeed the intruder in the computer system. He not only had the skills and clearance, but he had been the person who had put all the protocols and systems in place to begin with, although there had been several updates since then.

Now Moragh had to find out what the ex Captain of Security was looking for in the computer system and the easiest way to do that was to do as Lorgh had suggested and ask. Shutting down the file, he activated the comm. system and placed a call to the IKC Hegh'Ta.

* * *

Seated in his office, just off Hegh'Ta's bridge, Krang was reading through the data he had recovered when his comm. panel bleeped. It was Vareq, his second officer. _"Captain, there's a private transmission from the Homeworld for you. It's on a maximum security frequency."_

"Who is it from?" Krang queried, although he had a good idea that it would be from Imperial Intelligence. He would have been very surprised, and a little disappointed in them if they had not picked up his activity in their computer system. Even an operative as experienced as he was should not have been able to get in unnoticed.

Vareq hesitated as he checked the identification on the message. _"It's marked from Captain of Security Moragh sutai Khamran"_ he said finally, wondering what a top ranking I.I. officer wanted with Captain Krang. He had heard Captain Kay'vin addressing Krang as Captain of Security, but had put it down to his captain's strange sense of humour. Now he wasn't so sure.

"Very well, Vareq," Krang said, satisfied. "Put it through to my office."

There was a bleep as Vareq signed off and transferred the message across to the captain. A moment later, the computer screen was filled with the image of a Klingon, a little younger than Krang but with the same air of authority, wearing the insignia that denoted his rank in Imperial Intelligence. It was a badge that Krang had once been proud to wear.

" _NuqneH_ Captain Moragh," Krang said, "I am Captain Krang. What can I do for you?"

 _"I suspect it's more what I can do for you,"_ Moragh said dryly. _"You've been digging around for information in my computer network. If you wanted something you only had to ask, you know."_

Krang nodded in acceptance of the rebuke. The other officer was right, he should have asked. But it had been a long time since he had been entitled to the cooperation of I.I. and he had not expected to receive it. So he had simply gone in and taken what he needed. "I apologise," he said ruefully, "The truth is, Moragh, It never occurred to me to just ask."

 _"My orders are to give you every assistance,"_ Moragh said seriously, _"So if you tell me what you're looking for, I'll do my best to help. "_

"Actually, I just need some information from one of your agents," Krang told him. Quickly he explained the situation, telling the other Klingon about the attack on the Orinoco and how he had come to believe that there was a traitor on Starbase 62.

A skilled operative, Moragh had not risen to his current rank for nothing and he immediately grasped the seriousness of the problem. The presence of a traitor high up in Starfleet had ramifications for the Klingons as well as the Federation and he would do everything possible to help, despite his initial unhappiness with the Operations Master's order to cooperate with Captain Krang. He considered for a moment before saying finally, _"Leave it with me for a while. I'll see what I can find out. Moragh out."_


	9. Chapter 9

Content for now to leave the investigation in the capable hands of his Imperial Intelligence colleague, Krang finally got round to reading through the reports from Starfleet that Admiral Portway had given him. New security protocols had been put in place by the Federation Council but the Klingon did not feel that they were adequate. They seemed inconsistent to him; almost paranoid in some aspects, yet over simplified and distinctly lacking in others. He wondered, not for the first time, if his presence at the conference he had missed would have made any difference. Reading these reports, he rather suspected that it would not. He was just one man and politicians were not renowned for listening to opinions if it didn't suit them. Looking through the padds one final time, Krang decided to consult his fellow captain about some of his ideas. He was about to open a comm. link to his fellow captain when the panel buzzed, indicating an incoming message. It was from Moragh again.

 _"I have made contact with my field operatives in that sector,"_ the Security Captain informed Krang without preamble, _"As soon as I hear anything worth reporting, I will contact you again."_

Krang acknowledged, saying, "I am in your debt."

 _"I serve the Empire,"_ Moragh responded, _"I am always glad to render assistance to a fellow officer. However, should the time come when I need your help, I will expect to receive it with the same willingness that I have aided you."_ With that, he signed off and was gone.

Krang remained still for a few moments; then, getting up, he opened a comm. link to the Endeavour. "We need to talk," Krang told his Federation counterpart. "There are some security issues we need to discuss."

 _"I'm free now, if you want to join me for a raktajino,"_ Captain Mackenzie invited him _, "I'll be in my ready room." He laughed, "I won't bother sending an escort, I'm pretty sure you know your way around by now."_

"On my way," Krang responded, "I'll be with you in a few minutes."

* * *

There was a lot to be discussed. Apart from the requirements laid down in the memos resulting from the conference, Krang had some ideas of his own. In fact, the two captains found they were thinking along very similar lines. As the two ships were travelling together they had agreed on an 'open ship' policy allowing the crew of both ships to make use of each others' facilities. Brought back together by necessity after the breaking of the Khitomer Accords by the Klingon High Council, the alliance between their two governments was new and tenuous.

Mackenzie sighed at the thought. He'd been vocal in his dissent when he had learned the Federation did not intend to support the Klingon attack on Cardassia. Even when hindsight had proved that the attack had been ordered by the Changeling posing as General Martok, in an attempt to destabilise the quadrant, he had never believed in the Cardassians' innocence. It was with bitter amusement and no real surprise that he had proved right as, the Cardassian government had gone over to the enemy in an attempt to stay on what they perceived as the wining side.

He and Krang had talked about it several times, and Mackenzie knew that as one of a very small number of Klingons serving in Starfleet, that had been a difficult time for Krang. Even now, neither side completely trusted the other yet if they were to fight together as allies, they must learn to trust each other again. The two ships had maybe ten days of travelling together to reach their destination. It was a relatively short time and the open ship policy, implemented when they had been expecting to spend an indefinite amount of time together fighting side by side, was no longer strictly necessary. But allowing the crews to mix and get to know each other was one small step forward in rebuilding the trust that had been lost.

This being the case, it had become important to keep track of who was on which ship. After some thought, the two captains decided that a simple logging in procedure was needed. The transporter logs partially fulfilled their requirements, recording time and destination of transport but once the pattern buffer recycled, there was no permanent record of who had used the transporter. This would be remedied by having the crew sign in and out at each end.

The issue of possible shapeshifter infiltration was a little more difficult to tackle. New guidelines recommended – no, insisted – that starship crews be regularly tested. Captain Mackenzie felt however that constant tests would leave the crew feeling that they were under suspicion and would be damaging to morale. The war wasn't going well for the Federation and morale was already low enough without making things worse. Krang suggested that sensor sweeps be carried out and all crew members be tested, including the captains. He felt however that once it was determined that there were no shapeshifters on board, then no further testing was necessary unless they came into contact with crew from other ships or space stations. Any newcomers would be tested rigorously, regardless of any previous testing they might have undergone.

The Klingon also needed to tell Captain Mackenzie about his conversation with Moragh. The Captain of Security had been cooperative and helpful, far more so than Krang felt he had any right to expect. If Imperial Intelligence was operating with its usual efficiency, Krang had no doubt that Moragh would find answers. He did not however, plan to sit and wait for Moragh to do all the work. With the information he had been given, he would continue to investigate from this end and between them, they would find out who had endangered the Orinoco and why.

Business having been attended to, Krang had time to look around and he surveyed Captain Mackenzie's ready room with interest. It was the first time he had been in the room. So far all their meetings had been either on the bridge or in the observation lounge. Several weapons hung on the wall, including to the Klingon's surprise, a mek'leth. But it was the sword that caught his attention – a long slender weapon that gleamed with age.

The other captain, seeing his interest, said, "It's an antique katana – a traditional, handmade weapon from the Japanese region of Earth."

Stepping across the room he lifted the sword down and removing the blade from its sheath, he handed it to the Klingon. "Here, try it."

Krang accepted the weapon and stepping back to give himself room, swung it experimentally. "It's beautifully balanced," he commented appreciatively, "A little lighter than I am accustomed to though." Carefully he ran his finger across the blade, testing the weapon's sharpness before swinging it again. "I could get used to it." Handing the sword back to its owner, he moved back to the wall and without waiting for permission, removed the mek'leth _._ Examining it carefully, he ran through a quick series of moves before shaking his head and putting the weapon back where he had got it from. "It looks nice but the balance is off and it is not a good quality alloy." Krang explained his reaction, "I wouldn't like to have to fight with it."

"I get on all right with it" the Federation captain said, a little defensively.

"Oh for training purposes it's fine, but I wouldn't trust my life to it," Krang told him. "At least," he qualified, "not unless I absolutely had to. Try my own mek'leth sometime and you'll understand the difference."

"I'll do that."

"That sword though, I'd like to try it properly," Krang said "Are you trained in its use or is it just an ornament?"

Captain Mackenzie shook his head. "No, I know how to use it." Going back to his desk, he brought up the holodeck schedule on the screen and checked it. "Why don't you get your weapons and then you can try the katana. If you have the time, there's a holodeck free."

Krang gave a fierce smile, "For a weapon such as that one, I'll make time." He hit his combadge contacting his ship. "Captain Krang to Kargan."

When the first officer answered, Krang asked him to send someone to his quarters and have his batleth and mek'leth beamed over to Endeavour. Kargan agreed cheerfully and a few minutes later the Endeavour's transporter room called to report their arrival.

Smiling in anticipation of the match, the two men headed off to the holodeck.

* * *

Krang stretched himself out on the hard metal slab that Klingons euphemistically called a bed. His muscles ached and he half wished he had accepted the pillow that Kay'vin had jokingly offered him. The Terran captain had turned out to be a worthy opponent and the two men had spent most of the afternoon in the holodeck.

They'd spent the first hour or so going over the basics of the katana. Mackenzie had insisted that he learn the correct way of drawing and sheathing the sword before he would allow him to actually use it and he'd also recounted some of the history behind the weapon.

After a short break, the roles had been reversed and it had been Krang's turn to play instructor, refining and honing the Terran captain's skills with Klingon weaponry. Captain Mackenzie really did know how to fight although he had conceded Krang's point about the quality of his mek'leth _._ They had spent the rest of the afternoon sparring and had swapped weapons several times. The katana might appear slender and fragile next to the bulkier and heavier batleth but in the hands of an experienced user, it had proved to be a match for the Klingon's weapons and Krang had enjoyed the opportunity to wield it.

All in all, Krang, thought, it had been a particularly strenuous and very satisfying session. Each of them had learned from the encounter and they were looking forward to the next match.

Kay'vin hadn't been so far wrong - he had grown soft, he reflected. He had been too long in the Federation and had become accustomed to the softness and ease of Federation life. He smiled, imagining his _Terragnan_ wife's reaction if she were asked to sleep on a metal slab each night instead of the comfortable bed they shared. And if he were honest, he had come to enjoy that comfort.

It had been several weeks since he had taken over the captaincy of the IKC Hegh'Ta and it felt good to be living as a Klingon warrior again. It felt good to wear the Klingon uniform again - even if it was military grey and not the black of Imperial Intelligence - to live among Klingon warriors, to eat Klingon food – and especially to go into glorious battle against the enemies of the Klingon Empire. The Defence Force might not be the branch of the service he was familiar with, but still… he was amongst his own people. Finally, he felt, he was back where he belonged.

Shocked, he sat bolt upright – where had that treacherous thought come from? It had not initially been his choice to leave the Empire and serve with the Federation but it had been his decision to remain there. And he had a wife and children, whom he loved deeply. He could not even begin to imagine living without them. So why was he feeling like this? Annoyed with himself, he stretched out again and attempted to sleep.

Any chance of sleep however, was disrupted by the shrill whistle of the communications panel on the wall and Kargan's voice calling his name. "Captain, there is a call for you from Captain Mackenzie of the Endeavour."

"Are we under attack?" Krang asked grumpily.

"No, sir."

"Then it can wait until morning."

To Krang's surprise, his first officer did not back down, but insisted, "Captain, I really think you should take this call."

Krang sighed. "Very well. I'm on my way."

* * *

Thank you to the lovely Anonymaustrap for leaving reviews for this story and acting as an unofficial beta reader.

Oh, by the way, I use italics to indicate 2 different things... words from a non English language... and voices that are heard over a radio or comm system.

I should reiterate that I don't own anything from Star Trek except my original characters and I make no money from this story. It's all for fun.


	10. Chapter 10

On board the Endeavour, a communiqué had arrived from Starfleet headquarters. Kehlan, who had remained on duty that night, noticed the priority one coding and immediately downloaded the message onto her padd. What she read left her reeling with shock. Captain Mackenzie was not going to like this – and Captain Krang would be devastated. Deciding it could not wait until morning, she immediately went into the ready room and called the captain, awakening him from sleep. Hearing the tension in Kehlan's voice, he asked no questions and only a few minutes later he had joined her in his office. Quietly she handed him the padd containing the message.

Captain Mackenzie read the communiqué carefully. He'd known it would be bad news otherwise his first officer would not have roused him but this was far worse than he could have imagined. For a moment he remained silent, digesting its contents.

That Dominion forces had managed to get so far into Federation space and destroy a Starbase, wiping out almost the entire population of Frontera City, was just unbelievable. He knew of the planet of course. Located on the Federation/Klingon border, not far from Khitomer. Endeavour had docked once or twice at the great Ournal class Starbase 24 that orbited Frontera.

He frowned, aware that his mind still slightly fogged by sleep, he was missing something obvious. The base was of tactical importance to the Federation and its destruction was a great coup for the enemy. Kehlan's distress was something more though, it was obviously personal. Then it hit him. "Frontera… Starbase 24… Isn't that where Captain Krang comes from?"

At Kehlan's nod, he asked, "Are there any casualty lists yet?"

The lump in Kehlan's throat made it hard to speak. She handed him the lists, wordlessly pointing to a group of names about a third of the way down the list.

 _'INIGAN – HOUSE OF: Christa Martinez, Antonio, Josefina, Kara, Kehlan, Meren.'_

The captain looked at her enquiringly, knowing what she would say yet hoping, praying he was wrong. Seeing the unspoken question, she answered dully, "Captain Krang's wife and children."

Captain Mackenzie was shocked. "Oh God!"

Suddenly shaking, Kehlan turned her back on the captain in an effort to hide her grief, and covering her face with her hands in a vain attempt to stop the tears, she said in a low voice, "Chrissie was my friend. I am godmother to her youngest children. Her little girl was named for me."

He stepped towards Kehlan, putting a sympathetic hand on her shoulder, not knowing what to say. Grateful for his strength, she leaned back against him. Turning her to face him, he wrapped his arms around her and held her for a moment, letting her grieve before gently releasing her. With a visible effort, Kehlan pulled herself together, saying, "I should tell Krang."

"I'll do it," the captain said, "You should go and get some rest. I will take the rest of the shift. That's an order!"

She had no strength to argue, she just nodded. "Yes, sir."

He watched as Kehlan left the ready room and as the doors slid closed behind her, he activated the communications system and hailed the Hegh'Ta.

* * *

Pulling on his uniform, Krang headed to the bridge. As the bridge doors opened, he could see on the viewscreen the image of Captain Mackenzie, waiting patiently for him. This must be important he realised, the other captain looked dishevelled and had obviously been recently aroused from sleep himself.

" _NuqneH?_ " Krang asked brusquely, "What do you want, James?

 _"I'm sorry to wake you, Krang,"_ the other captain said gravely, _"But I'm afraid this can't wait." He hesitated, "There's no easy way to tell you this, but…"_

"But what? What's happened?" Krang exploded, suddenly very worried. The words "sorry…", "I'm afraid…", "no easy way…" echoed in his ears. It was not like Captain Mackenzie to beat around the bush – something had to be seriously wrong, "In Kahless' name, James, whatever it is, just tell me!"

The Terran captain took a deep breath before answering, _"There has been a major Jem'Hadar incursion. A fleet got through our defences and attacked Frontera. We've lost a lot of lives."_

Krang's face whitened. "My family live in Frontera City! Do you know if…" He was unable to finish.

Captain Mackenzie nodded, _"Krang my friend, I'm so sorry."_

"Dead?" Krang shook his head in shock and disbelief. "All of them? Chrissie? The children?" Looking at the other man, Krang could see the stark truth in his eyes. His family, his entire family were gone. They were dead, all of them and he was not. He had been off fighting battles and enjoying himself; he had left his family unprotected and they had paid the price. Unable to bear the sympathy of the Federation Captain, Krang swore and cut the connection.

For long minutes, he stood motionless, unable to think or function, just staring unseeingly at the blank view-screen. The duty officers knew better than to say anything and they waited silently for the storm. It was not long in coming.

Roaring his anger, Krang turned and banged his gauntleted fists down on the console nearest to him, striking it again and again, until the console cracked and violet blood dripped from his bruised hands.

Turning to the now thoroughly nervous helm officer, he snarled, "Turn the ship around!"

"Sir?" Ensign Krell hesitated. He did not want to argue with the grief-stricken captain, but the ship was under orders to return to Qo'noS and he was unsure what to do.

"I said, turn the ship around!" Krang shouted, taking a threatening step towards the helmsman.

Kargan intervened then, stepping between them and distracting his captain from the luckless junior officer. Krang swung with his d'k'tahg at the first officer who deftly avoided the blow. "If killing me will make you feel better, then do it," Kargan invited him, careful to keep his voice firm yet calm and reassuring, "But my death won't bring your family back – and it won't avenge them."

As the first officer's words penetrated through the thick fog of pain and grief, the blood rage slowly drained from Krang and he stared in surprise at the knife in his hand as though he had never seen it before.

"Turn the ship around!" Krang repeated for the second time.

"We have orders to return to Qo'noS," Kargan stated, keeping his tone calm and reasonable.

Krang gestured towards the rear of the ship. "The enemy is that way. I'm going after them." He paused, "Are you with me?"

Kargan stared at the captain for a moment, then seeing the enquiring look the helm officer was giving him, he confirmed the captain's order. "Turn the ship around. Today we go hunting!"

Krang returned to the captain's chair and sat down. "Send a message to the Endeavour" he said, "Tell them what we are doing and order them to return to Federation space." The message sent, the bird-of-prey began to turn around, its crew ready and eager to hunt Jem'Hadar.

Moments later a return message came from the captain of the Endeavour. " _nIteb Qob qwaD jup 'e' chaw'be' SuvwI_ – A warrior does not let a friend face danger alone!"

As Krang read out the message, the bridge erupted in cheers and the two ships, Endeavour and Hegh'Ta, flew side by side, back into Dominion controlled space.

* * *

Not surprisingly, it was the Endeavour that first picked up signs of the Cardassian Galor class cruiser coming in their general direction. The Federation starship, especially with the modifications Kehlan had made to the system, had far better long range sensors than the Hegh'Ta.

Immediately the enemy ship was detected, Captain Mackenzie called for a meeting and the senior officers of both ships once again gathered around the table in Endeavour's observation lounge. Endeavour was a much bigger ship than Hegh'Ta, and under-crewed as she was, there was no shortage of space on board – something the Klingon officers had taken advantage of, regularly making use of the gymnasiums and holodecks for training and exercise whenever their off duty hours allowed.

As soon as he was informed of the Cardassian vessel, Krang ordered his ship to cloak and began to piece together the idea that was forming in his head. The enemy ship had not yet detected them although it was now only a matter of time and to carry off his plan they needed to take the Cardassians by surprise. His idea was audacious and highly dangerous but if it succeeded it would benefit them greatly. He just had to persuade the Federation captain to go along with it.

"I propose that we send a boarding party," Krang said, "If we catch them by surprise I see no reason why we couldn't take the ship intact."

"The Cardassians are good fighters," Major Speares said, liking the suggestion, "but it's nothing my marines can't handle. In fact we'd be glad of a bit of action; I'm getting bored of simulations."

"This is crazy," Argyle, Endeavour's chief engineer, protested, "We should just blow them out of the sky and be done with it."

"Maybe we should let Captain Krang explain," Captain Mackenzie said. His tone made it an order rather than a suggestion. "I assume he has good reasons for suggesting it and not just a desire for some hand to hand combat."

"You already know I have a background in intelligence work," Krang responded, "If I can get onto the bridge I should be able to access their computer system."

"The information would certainly be useful to us." Captain Mackenzie agreed, "You'll need to be in command of the boarding party then."

"Captain, your place is on Hegh'Ta's bridge," Kargan protested, "I should be the one to lead the away team."

Krang shook his head, "I'm sorry Kargan, not this time. You're not an I.I. agent. You don't have the skills or experience to complete this mission – and neither does Koreq. It has to be me who goes. You will take command of Hegh'Ta while I'm gone."

"I still don't approve," Kargan said stubbornly.

"You don't have to approve," Krang snarled, "But you will obey my orders or I will have you replaced."

 _"_ _hIja' hoD"_ Kargan said, subsiding, "Yes, Captain." He knew that in his current mood, the captain was capable of carrying through on his threat and he had no desire to die just yet.

Captain Mackenzie considered his own options. He would have very much liked to be part of the away team, but unlike his Klingon counterpart, he could not justify leaving his ship during a battle. Krang had no choice, nobody else had the necessary security background to break into the Cardassian computer systems and access their intelligence network. "Major Speares, you'll lead the Endeavour's team" he told the marine officer. "Captain Krang will be in charge of the mission, you'll answer to him."

"I'd like to borrow Kehlan," the Klingon captain requested, "I could use a scientist on the team Her skills will be useful to me."

"Agreed," Captain Mackenzie said. Getting up he moved over to the viewscreen on the wall and activated a schematic of a Galor class ship. "We will need to concentrate our fire on the ship's shield generator, located here." He indicated the appropriate spot on the diagram before continuing, "Once the shields drop we're going to have to lower our own shields momentarily to transport across. I suggest that all troops depart from Hegh'Ta, it has a faster transporter cycle than Endeavour. We'll beam a party direct to their bridge, and also one to engineering."

Krang stood up and moved across to join the Federation captain. "I suggest we put teams here and here as well," he said, pointing to several spots on the schematic. "Vareq, tell the troops to use mek'leths. There's no room to swing a batleth properly in those corridors. I also want both Starfleet and Klingon marines issued with personal oxygen supplies; they're going to need them."

"I think that's everything we need to cover," Captain Mackenzie said, bringing the meeting to a conclusion. "You all know your duties. Dismissed."


	11. Chapter 11

Captain Mackenzie was in the transporter room having a last minute discussion with his marine commander as they inspected the troops waiting to beam over to Hegh'Ta. The doors swished open as his first officer stalked into the room. Kehlan had changed into her Klingon armour and carried a mek'leth in one hand and a disruptor in the other. As well as her d'k'tahg she also had a vicious looking qut'luch tucked into her belt. The leather armour, unlike that worn by the male officers, clung to her curves and revealed plenty of cleavage, rather more than he considered strictly appropriate. She carried herself with all the pride and assurance of the Klingon warrior she was and the captain found he couldn't keep his eyes off her. He frowned, forcing himself to look away. Kehlan was his first officer and he knew his reaction was not only inappropriate but ill timed; he didn't need this sort of distraction just before a battle. He was annoyed to see that the marines were reacting similarly.

"ATTENTION!" he snapped, not liking the way the other men were staring at her "Eyes front."

Major Speares raised an eyebrow at the captain's sudden display of bad temper but didn't comment, simply carrying on with his inspection. "All present and correct, Sir," he reported finally, "Marine Corps ready for action."

Captain Mackenzie gave a curt acknowledgement before instructing the team to beam across to the Klingon ship. He watched as the transporter beam took effect and the troops vanished, before heading back to the bridge.

Everything seemed to happen very fast after that. In no time at all the Cardassian cruiser was on them and they were under attack. As Endeavour swept down on the cruiser, Hegh'Ta decloaked directly above it, the two ships coordinating their attack in an effort to bring down the enemy's shield generator. From the way the Hegh'Ta was manoeuvring, almost dancing in and out of the enemy firing pattern, it was obvious that Kargan had to be at the helm. Even so, it was going to take all Kargan's considerable skill to keep the bird-of-prey out of range of the Cardassian weapons when the time came for the boarding party to transport.

It was almost time, Captain Mackenzie thought as Ch'Pesh shouted, "Captain, Enemy shields are fluctuating. I'm reading a forty eight percent power drain."

"Prepare to fire again," the captain ordered, "On my command, hit that ship with everything we've got." He watched the tactical display carefully and as Hegh'Ta came round in a graceful turn, its disruptor cannons firing. The enemy shields flickered, the generators unable to cope with the combined fire power of the two ships concentrated on the one spot. "Ready…" he warned the crew, "Almost there. On my mark…"

There was just the faintest flicker as Hegh'Ta dropped its shields to allow transport.

"NOW!" Captain Mackenzie said, his voice almost a shout. Every weapon the Endeavour had, went tearing into the Cardassian ship, this time aimed at the weapons ports. The cruiser lurched heavily as torpedoes exploded along its length and deadly phaser beams cut into its weapons array, preventing it from firing with any accuracy at the temporarily defenceless Hegh'Ta. A full minute passed before the bird-of-prey was able to raise its shields again and just as it did so, the Cardassian cruiser stopped firing, its crew suddenly too preoccupied with the invaders to man the guns.

* * *

Krang materialised on the bridge of the Cardassian cruiser, mek'leth in one hand, disruptor in the other. Raising his weapon, he fired it, taking down a Cardassian who, reacting more quickly than his compatriots, was already firing his own disruptor. At the same time, barely turning, he lashed out to one side with his mek'leth at a second Cardassian, slicing open his abdomen. As the screaming man fell, writhing on the floor, a second blow finished him. Stepping over the fallen enemy, Krang headed towards the nearest console.

Around him, he was aware of his fellow Klingons spreading out and attacking the other bridge officers. He knew also that all over the ship, other groups were materialising, their aim to keep the enemy too busy to send reinforcements to the bridge. Shoving his disruptor back in his belt he gave his full attention to the control panel in front of him. He had to trust his men now, to do their job and defend him. He was not here to fight, however much he wanted to, but to obtain the information they had come for and that would need all his concentration.

A Cardassian ran at him, firing his disruptor and a Klingon soldier screamed, falling to the ground as the deadly energy beam burned a hole in his chest. Krang glanced up, ready to defend himself but it proved unnecessary. Kehlan stepped in front of him, lashing out with her mek'leth, her blow cutting through the Cardassian's wrist. The man stared at his hand as it lay on the floor still gripping the disruptor, too shocked even to cry out. Kehlan whirled, striking again and her second blow sliced open his throat.

Krang's work went surprisingly well in the end. They had taken the Cardassians by surprise and they had had no time to lock down or booby trap the systems. They were password protected of course, but to an operative as experienced as he was, slipping through the layers of security protocols was, while not exactly easy, certainly achievable.

" _Qapla'_!" he muttered as the system finally accepted his codes and opened for his inspection. Working quickly he began to download information onto his specially modified tricorder.

Peripherally aware that the sounds of fighting were beginning to die down, Krang looked up, in time to see Vareq's mek'leth dispatch the final defender. His tricorder bleeped then and he turned his attention back to it. " _QI'yah Ha'DibaHmey,_ " he swore, "They are attempting to re-route bridge controls to engineering"

"I'll deal with it," Kehlan said, her voice calm as she seated herself at the Cardassian science officer's station and began to work the controls.

"Captain!" One of his men, standing at a panel on the other side of the bridge, attracted his attention, "I think the self destruct has been armed."

Immediately Krang was at his side, reading the flowing Cardassian script illuminated on the panel. "I can fix that," he said confidently, his fingers manipulating the screen even as he spoke. He swore again as the system resisted his attempt to stop the countdown.

"Disconnect the auxiliary power line from the main engineering console" Kehlan told him, not even noticing that she was giving orders to a senior officer. "Then you'll be able to reconfigure the command subroutines… That's it, the one to your left."

Krang acknowledged, doing as she had said, "Got it," he said, satisfied as the panel went dark. Then turning to his second officer, he instructed, "Vareq, take a squad to engineering and back up the Federation team. Once you get down there, I want the rest of the ship vented to vacuum."

Vareq quickly organised his men, leaving enough soldiers to guard the bridge and taking the rest with him. Before long he had reported back. "Engineering is secure, Captain" he said, his voice crackling through the comm. system. The ship is ours. All non secured areas have been vented as ordered."

"Any prisoners?" Krang asked as he disconnected his tricorder from the ship's computer system and put it back on his belt.

"Yes sir, a few," Vareq said, sounding disgusted at their cowardice. A Klingon of course, would die before being taken prisoner. "One of them is a Vorta!"

"A Vorta?" Krang was surprised but pleased, "Well done, Vareq. Have Koreq beam over and question them. Keep the Vorta alive afterwards – the others can be disposed of."

Kehlan stared at him in surprise. The order might be practical – and the Klingon part of her understood and approved – but it was in direct contravention of Starfleet directives regarding prisoners. Despite the Klingon uniform he wore, Krang was still a Starfleet officer and subject to those rules. "Sir, Captain Mackenzie said…"

She was given no chance to finish. "I am in command of this mission," Krang snarled. "You will obey me." Realising he had been a little harsh, he moderated his tone as he continued, "Kehlan, we can't take them with us and we certainly can't let them go. It's best to give them a quick death once we've finished interrogating them."

"We are both answerable to Starfleet," Kehlan persisted. "You know it's against Starfleet regulations. And even if it weren't, they are prisoners of war. The Khitomer Accords lay down strict rules regarding their treatment."

Krang gave a frustrated growl, but he knew she was correct. "Very well," he conceded. "Belay the last part of that order, Vareq. Keep the prisoners alive – for now."

* * *

Immediately Kehlan rematerialised on Endeavour's transporter pad, she went straight to the captain's ready room to make her report. A lot had happened on the Cardassian cruiser and the captain needed to know about it straight away. She was particularly concerned about the situation regarding the prisoners. In his current mood, the Klingon captain was unlikely to show them any mercy, despite his promise to keep them alive. She knew Koreq's methods of interrogation and knew also that Krang would authorise the use of the agoniser and maybe even the mind-sifter. While she was Klingon enough not to care, those devices were illegal in the Federation and she suspected that Captain Mackenzie would have strong views on the subject of torture. Maybe it was for the best if she didn't tell him, she thought, sensing that it could cause trouble between the two captains. Finally she decided that she had to tell him everything. He was her captain and where there was a conflict between the Defence Force and Starfleet, her loyalty was, had to be, to him.

Listening to her report, Captain Mackenzie stopped her several times, asking questions and clarifying points that interested him. "I will not allow the prisoners to be executed," he told her. "However, Hegh'Ta is a Klingon ship and we are way outside Federation space. I have no jurisdiction there."

"Then you condone torture?" Kehlan snarled, not caring that she was allowing her anger and disappointment to show. She had expected better of him.

"You will speak to me with respect" he snapped, "No Kehlan, I do not condone torture." Pulling out a padd from the pile on his desk, he activated it and then threw it down in front of her. "Read it."

Kehlan stared at him, making no move to touch the padd. She had never seen him so angry.

"I said read it" he demanded harshly.

Slowly she reached out and took the padd. It was a copy of a message sent only a few minutes before her arrival, to the Klingon captain, reminding Krang that he was still a Starfleet officer and bound by Federation rules of conduct. It listed the regulations concerning the treatment of prisoners and asked the Klingon to abide by them.

Kehlan put the padd down again and looked at him, not knowing what to say.

Seeing that she understood her error, he told her, "Krang sent a message informing me about the prisoners. That was my response. I do not and will not condone torture. But we do need whatever information those prisoners have and if Krang chooses to ignore my request, there is nothing I can do except file a complaint that changes nothing."

"I was in error," she told him steadily, "I will accept whatever punishment you consider fitting."

"You still don't understand, do you, Kehlan," he said passionately, "Do you really think so little of me? What sort of man do you believe me to be?"

With that last question, it suddenly became personal, no longer an argument between captain and first officer, but between man and woman. He was still angry with her, she realised, and with good reason. Yet it was a controlled anger. There was a fire in him now and she found it excited her. She hesitated before answering him, unsure of how best to put her feelings into words. "I know that you are a man I respect and trust," she said finally, "I will try harder to understand you as well."

Suddenly restless, the Terran captain stood up and moved round his desk, approaching his first officer. All sorts of inappropriate ideas were vying for attention in his mind and their argument suddenly seemed irrelevant. He shouldn't be thinking like this, he castigated himself; Kehlan had earned his respect, even if she did not always understand him, and she deserved better than to be ogled in this way. At least there were no marines here this time, he thought ruefully. He was going to have to ban her from wearing her Klingon armour on board Endeavour, it was just too distracting, and it wasn't as if she could possibly return his interest. Could she?


	12. Chapter 12

Kehlan stared at the captain, wondering if she was imagining things. Was Captain Mackenzie actually attracted to her or was she reading something that wasn't there? She had little experience with Terran males – they seemed to be far more subtle than their Klingon counterparts. If he was interested, he obviously wasn't going to make the first move. That was up to her. Abruptly she acted, hoping she hadn't misread his interest in her. With a sudden motion, she pushed him back against the wall and pinned him there, the blade of her d'k'tahg at his throat.

She had caught him by surprise. For long moments he did not move, and she wondered if he had understood her invitation. His eyes darkened as he looked down at her and slowly his hand came up to touch her, his fingers caressing the hand that held the knife at his throat. Oh yes, she thought, he understood, but what would he do?

She got her answer when, in a blur of motion, he neatly reversed their positions and it was her turn to find herself pinned against the wall. He was very close to her now, his body pressed against hers, so close that the metal trim on her armour was cutting into his uniform. He had one hand on her wrist, pressing hard enough to make her gasp in pain and drop the knife. The other hand had a stranglehold on her neck. Slowly, so slowly, he lowered his head until his lips were almost touching hers.

There was a shrill whistle as the comm. system activated, "Krang to Captain Mackenzie"

" _yIntagh_!" With a muttered Klingon curse he had learned from his fellow captain, he released his first officer and stepped back. Touching his badge, he almost snarled, "What do you want, Krang?"

"We've recovered some very interesting data from the Cardassian ship," Krang's voice came over clearly on the comm. system. "I think you should come over and take a look."

"On my way" the Terran responded, "Captain Mackenzie out." Turning back to his first officer he said, "Have dinner with me tonight. My quarters at 20:00." With a mischievous grin, he added, "That's an order!" With that, he turned and left the room.

* * *

After a long discussion about the data they had recovered from the Cardassian cruiser, the two captains called a meeting of their senior officers. Once the Klingon officers had beamed across to the Endeavour and joined their Federation counterparts in the Observation lounge, the meeting began in earnest.

"As you are already aware, we have been examining the intelligence gathered from the Cardassian ship," Captain Mackenzie began. "And we've found something that interests us very much."

"It appears," Krang continued, "that there is a Jem'Hadar weapons production facility within easy travelling distance of our current coordinates." He looked around the gathered officers before saying, "It is our intention to find and destroy the base."

"A base like that would be well defended," Captain Mackenzie said, "So it's going to be difficult to get close enough to do any damage. Hegh'Ta can cloak of course, but unless you engineers can find a way to cloak the Endeavour, that's not much use to us."

"Then we cloak the Endeavour," Kerrik, the Klingon engineer said. He picked up a padd and programming the schematics of the cloaking device, handed it to his Terran counterpart, Chief Argyle.

The burly Scotsman read through the data and regretfully shook his head. "It won't work," he said, "Fitting a Klingon cloaking device from scratch would mean a complete shutdown of the primary and secondary power systems."

"How long are we talking?" Captain Mackenzie queried.

"Without a dry dock, at least a week," Argyle answered, "And before you ask, no that doesn't mean if you hassle me I can do it in a day."

"So we can't install a cloak on Endeavour," Kehlan said thoughtfully, "But what if we could make Hegh'Ta's cloak fit both ships? She was still wearing her Klingon armour, having had no time to go back to her quarters and change back into Starfleet uniform. Captain Mackenzie found himself wondering if she would actually come to his quarters that evening and what he would do if she did. Forcibly he turned his thoughts away from the attractions of his first officer and back to the issues being discussed.

Both engineers turned to Kehlan in surprise. "I wonder…" said Kerrik, reaching for the padd again and tapping in some fresh data. "We'd have to merge the shields first. Then that just may trick the cloak into thinking there's only one ship."

"That's so crazy it might actually work," Argyle said, "Assuming of course that the shield technology is compatible." He grinned at the Klingon engineer, "And if it's not, we'll just have to make it compatible."

"It will be," Kehlan told them, "But it's going to mean flying close together, well within recommended safety limits."

"How close is close?" Captain Mackenzie asked warily.

"If my calculations are correct," Kehlan said calmly, "Hegh'Ta will need to be no more than ten metres above the Endeavour."

There was a silence as the assembled officers took this in. A ten metre distance between the ships wasn't just dangerous, it was suicidal. Anything could go wrong and it would take only the slightest error on the part of the pilots for the two vessels to collide, causing massive damage.

Then Kargan spoke for the first time. "I can do it," The Klingon first officer said confidently, "I'll take the helm of Hegh'Ta. Ch'Pesh is pretty good, he should be able to handle the Endeavour."

"Having two pilots isn't going to work," Kehlan said, shaking her head. "We'll have to slave the helm system of one ship to the other."

Captain Mackenzie nodded, "I agree. Kargan, are you sure you can handle both ships?"

"Yes, I'm sure."

"Kargan is a good pilot," Krang said, "I trust him to do this. I would suggest however, that you put a failsafe into the system, so that if anything goes wrong Endeavour can take back control."

"That sounds reasonable," Captain Mackenzie agreed. "Before I dismiss you, does anyone have any other points to raise?"

"There is one other thing," Vareq said, "What about the Cardassian ship?"

The two captains looked at each other. They had discussed this issue in depth and were in agreement that it should be sent back to allied space with a prize crew. The enemy ship was a far greater prize than they could ever have realised when they began the attack. The Vorta had been installing a prototype Breen energy weapon on board, and while the installation was not complete, the device had not been damaged in the fighting. Breen weaponry was not unknown to the Federation of course but this device appeared to be an upgrade to the technology they were familiar with. If they could get it back to Starfleet it would be a major coup.

The disposition of the prisoners had not been so easy to resolve and the two captains had almost come to blows. Krang still believed that the most expedient solution was to kill them. "We cannot keep them indefinitely in either Endeavour or Hegh'Ta's brig," he had pointed out, "And if we're sending the cruiser back to the Federation they can't stay on board there either – if anything went wrong they'd seriously outnumber the prize crew."

"There's an uninhabited class M planet not far away," Captain Mackenzie told him, "I say we dump them there."

"It's too big a risk," Krang argued, "We might as well just inform the Dominion ourselves of our battle plans."

On this issue though, the Terran captain had refused to compromise. "Well, we're not going to leave them any communications devices, or any other technology for that matter" he said passionately, "Krang, can't you see? What you're suggesting is wrong. It's immoral. It's dishonourable. It diminishes us and brings us down to their level. And if we're no better than the Dominion, what are we fighting for?"

Seeing that the Federation captain would not be moved, Krang was forced to agree. In his time as Captain of Security, he had on more than one occasion given orders for executions to be carried out, and sometimes he had carried out those executions himself. Although it was not something he liked doing, it did not worry him. He did it because it was his job and it had to be done. He still believed that releasing the prisoners was a mistake but he had great respect for Captain Mackenzie and he did not want to endanger their friendship.

Once all this was decided, the question had been who could they put in charge of the cruiser? Under normal circumstances, it would be the second officer's responsibility but neither captain could afford to lose more members of their senior crew. In the end, they had decided to send a detachment of Klingon marines under the command of Endeavour's communications officer.

"Lieutenant Palin is the obvious choice to take it back," Captain Mackenzie said, "He speaks Cardassian and Klingon, as well as several Federation languages."

Seeing the disappointment on the faces of some of the crew who had been hoping that this would be their first command, Krang said, "For obvious reasons it can't be Kehlan or Kargan. And, I'm sorry Vareq, but I can't afford to let you go, much as you deserve it. I need you here."

"Well, if that's settled and there's nothing else to discuss," Captain Mackenzie added, "I suggest we break up this meeting and let our engineers get on with their work."


	13. Chapter 13

It took several hours for Kerrik and Chief Argyle to make the necessary alterations to the ships' systems. It was a dangerous time for the two ships as the engineers had to take all the power systems off line and without propulsion, sensors or weapons, they were vulnerable to attack. But eventually the work was done and the two vessels were moving again and heading towards the target. There were still some minor adjustments to make but these could be done while the ships were under way.

As Krang sat in the captain's chair, his thoughts inevitably turned to his family. Chrissie was dead, his children were dead and he would never see them again. The pain of that was almost unbearable. Would they be waiting for him in _Sto-Vo-Kor_ , he wondered? She had died in battle but she was not Klingon – would the warriors of the Black Fleet allow her entrance? If she was not there, then he knew he would rather ride the Barge of the Dead to _Gre'thor_ and spend eternity with the dishonoured dead. His Chrissie had been a gentle soul, an unlikely partner for a Klingon warrior, but when aroused she had had a formidable temper. He couldn't help smiling as he remembered the first time she had used a batleth.

* * *

It had happened almost four years ago, back on the USS Enterprise. Krang had been in gymnasium number three with the two older children, giving them a lesson in the use of the batleth.

Engaged in a mock battle with the boy, Krang had been demonstrating a simple blocking motion as Fina watched, when his wife entered looking for them.

"What's going on?" she had asked, approaching and grabbing the weapon from her son. "You know I don't want him learning violence."

Krang laughed. "Our son is growing. He must learn to be a warrior."

"My son is not Klingon!" Chrissie yelled, beginning to get really angry.

At that point, Krang had demonstrated his complete lack of understanding of Terran women. Trying to soothe her, he said in a reasonable tone, "You are a woman, you don't understand such things."

Chrissie lost her temper, and only half aware of the batleth still in her hand, she swung for him. Sheer instinct saved Krang, for he was so surprised that he barely reacted in time, flinching back as the blade whizzed past his head, missing by a hair's breadth.

As the Klingon stared at her in total shock, Chrissie realised just how close she had come to decapitating him. Recovering, he grabbed hold of her and kissed her soundly, saying, "Kahless! You're magnificent!" But Chrissie was still angry. Pulling away, she slapped his face, hard and was surprised when he just kissed her again.

"Toni, Fina!" Chrissie snapped, "Go back to your rooms."

"Oh, momma! Why?" the children protested, disappointed. They were enjoying the display.

"Because I'm going to kill your father," she snapped, "Now go!"

Krang, trying hard not to laugh himself as the children ran out giggling, lifted his batleth and waited for his wife to attack.

She swung her batleth clumsily, bringing it up and over, towards his head. He countered and the weapons clashed. Allowing her to attack again and again, he continued to effortlessly repel her onslaught. An experienced weapons master, Krang was in no danger from a complete beginner like Chrissie, but he could see that she was starting to enjoy herself and he could not help but react to her nearness. "You're doing well for a beginner," he encouraged her, "but don't hold your blade so tightly." Seeing her loosen her grip slightly, he continued to instruct her, "That's good. Now, bring your blade a little higher…"

As she began to slow, Krang switched from the defensive and began to press home his own attack, pushing her slowly backwards. He kept his moves slow and deliberate, all the time ready to pull back should she fail to counter him. The batleths they were using were real, not holodeck weapons and were capable of killing. He was aroused and excited, a Klingon warrior doing battle with his mate, but he was conscious of her inexperience and did not want to hurt her.

Krang eventually moved in to end the fight and suddenly Chrissie found herself pinned to the wall, the points of the batleth dangerously close to her throat. She stared at him, finally beginning to understand why battle so often formed part of the Klingon mating ritual. Krang moved closer until his body was pressed against hers – she was breathing hard and he could feel her heart beating, like a startled bird, against his chest. He sniffed the air. Her scent was intoxicating, clouding his mind with desire. He almost missed the flicker in her eyes as with a laugh, she suddenly raised her knee, intending to catch him in the groin, but he danced backwards and she missed.

"Chrissie-oy," he said huskily, "You'll have to do better than that." Taking hold of her he pulled her into his arms and they tumbled together to the ground, landing on the padded mat. Rolling, he pinned her beneath him and kissed her again.

Chrissie responded ardently and for long moments they remained like that, but then she began to wriggle, managing to pull away from him enough to gasp, "Krang, the door. Anyone could walk in."

Krang froze but did not release her. Looking up, towards the still open door, he said "Computer, lock door."

"Unable to comply" the computer replied, its mechanical voice sounding insufferably smug, "Locking the gymnasium door is in direct contravention of health and safety regulations."

"ghuy'cha' regulations!" Krang swore. "Security override, authorisation Krang delta six."

"Locking gymnasium doors."

Satisfied, Krang turned his attention back to his wife…

* * *

Kargan's voice cut into his reverie. "Captain? Captain, are you all right?"

Krang felt a moment of confusion. He had just locked the doors – what was Kargan doing there?

"Captain? Are you all right?"

Coming back to the bitter present, Krang remembered that he was on the bridge of the Hegh'Ta, not in the gymnasium with Chrissie. With a pang of grief, he looked up at the concerned face of his first officer. "I am all right," Krang said harshly, "What did you want?"

"The engineers have finished their work," Kargan told him patiently. "It's time to engage the cloak for the trial run."

"Very well," Krang responded, knowing he was lucky to have such a loyal first officer. But he would have to pull himself together or Kargan would challenge him for the captaincy, and rightly so – a distracted captain was a danger to the crew under his command. "Is the Endeavour ready?"

"Yes, sir. Standing by."

"Then get the ships into formation and activate cloaking device."

Kargan did not point out that the ships were already in formation and were only awaiting the Captain's order. He said simply, "Aye sir."

The shields of the two ships met and merged into one, allowing the Hegh'Ta's cloak to form around both vessels. Flying together in close formation, the Hegh'Ta only a few metres above the Endeavour, the ships continued towards the Jem'Hadar weapons production facility that was their target.

Captain Mackenzie went off duty a couple of hours early that evening leaving the bridge in the capable hands of Major Speares. Changing out of his uniform into something more comfortable, he went over to the replicator and asked for several ingredients. Taking them into the little galley he had had installed in his quarters when he first took command of Endeavour, he began to peel and chop, getting ready to prepare one of his favourite meals, a highly spiced curry that he was fairly sure his half Klingon first officer would enjoy. He swore as the juices from the replicated onions stung his eyes, sometimes the replicator could be a little too authentic. Why was he doing this anyway, he asked himself, going to all this effort when he didn't even know if she would turn up? Oh, he had jokingly made it an order, but that was meaningless. Then he remembered the look in her eyes as she had held her knife to his throat and he knew it was worth the risk. As for the onions, well he'd chop every last one in the damned quadrant if that was what it took to win her affection.

Once he had the curry simmering, he turned his attention to the rest of the meal. Something to drink, he thought, considering his options. Champagne – or was that too obvious? No, it had to be the champagne, especially since he had a bottle of the real thing stashed away, waiting for a special occasion. And what about dessert? That was a little easier, he had never yet met a woman who didn't like chocolate. It would have to be replicated of course, his culinary skills weren't up to preparing a chocolate cake from scratch.

At exactly 20:00, his doorbell chimed and he went to the door to greet his guest, suddenly feeling nervous. The door opened and Kehlan entered his room.

"Reporting as ordered, sir," she said, with a mischievous grin; she had known his order was unenforceable and had chosen to obey it anyway. She had finally changed out of her armour, he noticed, but she was still out of uniform. She was wearing a simple wraparound dress in the softest pale brown suede. It revealed nothing yet suggested everything and the captain reflected that his wish for her not to wear the armour had backfired. He had never seen her looking so pretty. It wasn't a word usually used to describe a Klingon woman, but at this moment, it suited her. In fact, he thought, she was more than just pretty, she was sexy and beautiful and he was very conscious of just how easy it would be to remove that wrap and…

Kehlan looked around her, curious. The captain's quarters were bigger than hers and more homely, little personal touches here and there giving them a relaxed, comfortable feel. Her own rooms, although equally comfortable had little in the way of decoration. She had almost no personal possessions to call her own, just her weapons and her science books. Something smelt good and seeing the pans simmering in the little galley, she raised an eyebrow – that certainly wasn't regulation issue.

"I've been cooking all afternoon," Captain Mackenzie said, handing her a glass of champagne, "So I hope you're hungry."

She smiled up at him, "If that tastes as good as it smells," she answered, "Then yes, I'm hungry."

"It'll be ready in just a few minutes" he told her. Indicating the table, laden with cutlery and a bunch of flowers stolen from the ship's arboretum, he added, "Go and sit down and I'll bring it over to you."

He was as good as his word. After just a minute, he brought over platefuls of food and put one in front of her. Then he sat down, joining her at the table.

Tasting the food and finding it to her liking, Kehlan said appreciatively, "This is good, Captain."

"We're off duty," he told her, "And in private. Will you not call me James?"

"Very well," she said, "James. Tell me, what do you call this dish?"

They took a long time over dinner, talking as they ate, getting to know each other and laughing and joking. They found they had a lot in common and slowly Kehlan began to relax. The year she had spent on Earth had not prepared her for this and she was still unsure of what was expected of her. The Klingon way was much more direct. She decided that since they were doing this Terran style she would let him show her what he wanted – it was up to him to make the first move this time. In the meantime, she was enjoying their evening together and hoped they would repeat it.

Eventually he did make his move, but not until much later when Kehlan had finally got up to leave. Pulling Kehlan's body against him, he bent his head to hers, and for the first time, kissed her. It felt good and he wanted more. Remembering their encounter in his office earlier that morning he hoped fervently that this time no-one would disturb them. His prayers were answered. This time there were no interruptions.


	14. Chapter 14

Kehlan awoke late the following morning. Her eyes still closed, she stretched out, wondering why her body ached all over. The bed felt so soft and comfortable and she turned over, snuggling into its warmth. Soft? Comfortable? This wasn't right – almost the first thing she had done on being assigned quarters was to arrange for a much firmer mattress. Confused, she opened her eyes and sat up, realising she was not even in her own quarters. Then the memories began to come back. She was still in Mackenzie's bedroom, having spent the night with the Federation captain. She smiled at the memory – he had proved himself to have both strength and stamina; no wonder her body felt sore. She looked around for him, but she was alone in the room. The captain had gone. But on the pillow next to her he had left a red flower. It was a rose, she remembered after a moment, a flower that the Terrans considered a symbol of romance.

But where was the captain? She knew from the duty roster that he was not supposed to be on duty until lunch time; it was her turn to take the early shift.

Oh Kahless, she thought frantically, the early shift. "Computer, what time is it?"

 _"The time is 08:55,"_ the computer told her.

Kehlan swore. She was going to be in so much trouble. Her shift had started almost three hours ago. Why had no-one called her? She distinctly remembered, just before falling asleep in the captain's arms, instructing the computer to awaken her at 05:30.

Jumping out of bed, she quickly pulled on her dress and went to the door. Cautiously she poked her head around the door but luckily no-one was around. She didn't want to be seen leaving the captain's quarters, it would lead to awkward questions that she wasn't ready to answer. This was not a Klingon vessel and she suspected that Starfleet would have regulations about this sort of thing. Making a quick dash next door to her own quarters, she went inside and hurriedly changed into a clean uniform. There was no time for washing – anyway, she had spent plenty of time in the shower with the captain last night. Stopping for a quick check in the mirror, she was pleased to see she looked presentable. Any bruises were thankfully not visible; she could only hope she had not marked the captain too obviously.

On the bridge, Captain Mackenzie looked up as the turbolift doors opened and his first officer came in. She looked worried and he knew why. Carefully suppressing a smile, he stood up and gestured towards his ready room. "Ah, Commander Kehlan," he said coolly, "I'd like to talk to you in private."

"Yes sir," she answered formally, following him into his office. The moment the doors closed behind them she began to apologise "I'm sorry to be so late Captain," she said, wondering why he was smiling, " It won't happen again. I was so sure I'd set an alarm."

"I cancelled it," he told her, laughing at her expression of surprise. "I thought you'd be tired and you looked so peaceful sleeping in my bed that I didn't want to disturb you, so I took your shift."

Kehlan growled in the back of her throat. "Captain…"

"Captain?" he said, his voice suddenly husky. "You called me James last night."

"We were both off duty last night," she reminded him, "And anyway, you should have woken me."

"Kehlan," he said gently, "If I'd woken you, neither of us would have made it to the bridge this morning."

There was nothing further she could say to that, but the thought made her smile.

* * *

After Krang's lapse of concentration on the bridge, Kargan began to keep a discreet watch on his commanding officer. He had enormous respect for the captain, who had proved himself to be a brave warrior and a brilliant tactician, having led them to victory in several battles in which the odds had been stacked heavily against them. But he had just suffered a devastating personal loss and understandably it had affected him badly.

Over the next few days Kargan organised some intensive training exercises for the crew. It was vital that the crew did not notice the captain's preoccupation – it would leave them confused and worried and then he would have to challenge for the captaincy. And that was something he did not want to do – he had serious doubts about his ability to defeat the captain in a fair fight, and any other way would be dishonourable. The extra drills also meant extra work for the captain, something Kargan felt could only be a good thing – Krang needed to be kept too busy to have time to brood.

Sitting at his desk, reading through the piles of paperwork the extra drills had generated, Krang began to realise that every time he had a quiet moment, Kargan would appear with some task or problem that could only be dealt with by the captain. When the first officer turned up with yet another report requiring his attention, Krang finally snapped.

"Enough!" he shouted, banging his fist on the desk. "This is unnecessary. I want no more of these useless reports."

"The data speaks for itself, sir," Kargan said stiffly, ignoring his captain's bad temper. "Look at these figures, there's been a seventeen percent increase in speed and a twenty four point five percent increase in accuracy."

Krang sighed. "That's well done." He got up and stepped around his desk until he stood face to face with the first officer. "That does not mean however, that I haven't noticed what you are doing!"

"I have only done my duty in preparing the crew for battle," Kargan said, a note of injured innocence in his voice, which did not fool the captain at all.

"I suppose you have yet more plans for me," Krang said resignedly.

"I thought maybe you could hold an advanced batleth class for the senior officers," Kargan suggested, "And I have another gunnery drill planned for the crew this afternoon"

Krang gave in and started to laugh. "Never mind. You're right of course. I do need to be busy at the moment. You might as well carry on. Oh, and you can tell the crew there's a barrel of blood-wine for the best team."

Turning back to his desk, Krang swept up the pile of data padds and dumped them into Kargan's arms. "Schedule the batleth class to take place in one hour," he said, "And invite Captain Mackenzie and Kehlan to attend – tell him to bring his katana. Until then, I'm going off duty."

Kargan looked down in confusion at the pile of reports in his arms. "What shall I do with this lot?"

"You are the first officer," Krang said mischievously, "I have every confidence in your ability. Deal with it." Walking to the door, he stopped and looked back, "I'll see you in an hour. Until then, feel free to use my office." And with that he was gone, leaving the surprised first officer to deal with all the paperwork he had generated.

* * *

Entering the training room, Krang removed his uniform jacket and began a series of simple exercises. The ancient ritual movements of _Mok'bara_ soothed him and cleared his mind, leaving him centred and ready for what was to come.

His students arrived exactly on time and Krang was pleased to see that Captain Mackenzie and Kehlan had accepted his invitation to join them.

He began by putting the class through a range of basic techniques, designed to assess their abilities, before moving on to more advanced methods.

"Kargan, I want you to attack me," Krang instructed, "Are you aware of the _Yi'Su qesH_ manoeuvre."

"The _Yi'Su qesH_ manoeuvre?" Kargan queried, "Yes, I know it. It's an illegal move – there's no counter to it."

"Enemies don't always use legal moves," Krang told him, "Now, try it."

Kargan nodded, "As you wish." He swung his batleth across his body, lifting it high and twisting it in a perfect rendition of the banned manoeuvre, bringing it back down towards Krang's neck.

But Krang was no longer there. Stepping neatly aside with a quick twist of his body, his batleth caught Kargan's weapon, tearing it out of his hands and sending it crashing to the floor. "That's how you counter the _Yi'Su qesH_ manoeuvre." He stepped back, indicating to Kargan that he pick up his weapon. Addressing the surprised class, he said, "Now watch carefully, I'll show you again. Try it again Kargan, slowly this time."

Kargan did so, and even knowing what to expect this time, was unable to retain hold of his weapon as Krang once again demonstrated the new counter move.

Instructing his students to pair off, Krang moved amongst them, occasionally correcting them or giving praise or encouragement where appropriate.

"Good move, Vareq, but don't hold your weapon so tightly," Krang told the young second officer who was sparring with the security chief. "Koreq, you're doing the same, you should know better."

Krang's eyes narrowed as he watched Captain Mackenzie sparring with his half Klingon first officer. He knew just how good the _Terragnan_ was with a batleth, so why was Kehlan beating him so easily? She was competent with the weapon but the Terran was better. Moving towards them, he used his own weapon to separate them. "Either your skills have deteriorated badly in the last week, James," he said sarcastically, "or you're holding back. Which is it?"

The Terran captain remained silent, embarrassed. He had indeed been holding back, not wanting to hurt Kehlan. While he did not claim to be an expert in the use of the batleth, he was capable of more than he had been giving to the fight.

"Let's see you try again," Krang told him, "And this time I want to see your best effort." He stepped back, giving them room to fight. The Terran did better this time and suddenly Kehlan was fighting for real. As she lifted her weapon to block an attack, Kehlan made a growling sound low in the back of her throat and Captain Mackenzie found himself giving a Klingon snarl as he pushed her back.

As Krang watched them, he found himself wondering just what there was between these two. Had his friend not been Terran, he would have thought he was witnessing the beginnings of a mating fight. He smiled at the idea, but dismissed it as irrelevant and none of his business. Anyway, a mated captain and first officer on the same ship? What was perfectly acceptable, although uncommon, on a Klingon vessel, Starfleet would never allow.

Kehlan attacked hard, slipping through her opponent's guard. Captain Mackenzie countered, but Krang noticed that he still seemed unable to really attack his female first officer and after a few more moments, Kehlan easily ended the match.

Krang glanced around, seeing the looks of superiority some of the Klingons were giving the _Terragnan_. Even now, after all the two crews had been through together, some of them still thought the humans were inferior, but he was about to teach them another lesson. Not one of them could beat him with a batleth – or any other weapon for that matter, and they all knew it. "James, my friend, put down your bat'leth," Krang told him, "It's time to demonstrate the katana. Show my officers what a Terran sword can do."

Captain Mackenzie obeyed, picking up the ancient Samurai sword and carefully unsheathing it. Turning to Krang he gave the ritual bow, ignoring the snickers of some of the watchers, and raising the sword, he waited.

Lifting his batleth, Krang moved in hard and fast and the battle began. The two men were evenly matched, both experts in their chosen weapon and now neither of them were holding back. Captain Mackenzie brought the katana swinging upwards and Krang parried, twisting the batleth and forcing the Terran back. Ducking down, the Klingon brought his blade upwards, under his opponent's guard in a move that was very difficult to counter, but the _Terragnan_ captain was ready for him. Using the long, slender sword to protect his body, he parried the batleth and with a quick thrust, forced the Klingon to give ground.

Sword clashed against sword and the blades locked together momentarily. Captain Mackenzie shifted his grip and Krang realised immediately what he intended. With a fierce grin he cooperated, shifting his own grip and before any of the watchers realised what was happening, the two combatants had swapped weapons. The fight continued, not slowing for an instant, but now Krang was wielding the katana, and the Terran, the batleth. Krang was enjoying having the Terran weapon in his hands. It handled very differently to the batleth and was surprisingly versatile. His opponent's fighting style was very different now, he noted, Captain Mackenzie was finally fighting at full capacity. Krang realised as the fight continued that he would have to be extra careful. A fight of this intensity usually ended when one of the combatants was dead, but this was a demonstration fight, not a battle to the death and it was not his intention to either kill or permanently maim the _Terragnan_ captain.

Eventually, having made his point, Krang brought the fight to an end. No-one here today would ever again underestimate the _Terragnan_ captain. Bowing to his opponent in accordance with the Samurai tradition, he returned the katana to him and reclaimed his batleth.

He turned back to the spellbound audience. "Think about what you have seen and learned today. Class dismissed."


	15. Chapter 15

_The Jem'Hadar warrior raised his knife and with a savage growl he lashed out, the weapon tearing into Chrissie's chest. She screamed as bright, scarlet blood spurted out, her agonised cry silenced as her attacker pulled the knife free and thrust forward, his blade slicing open her throat. She crumpled to the ground in a lifeless heap and the Jem'Hadar stepped over her body to attack the frightened children she had been trying to protect._

" _NO_!" Krang sat bolt upright, his throat raw from shouting before realising that he was dreaming again. Sometimes it was a knife that killed his mate, sometimes a disruptor and sometimes a bomb blast. Once he watched a Jem'Hadar kill her with his bare hands. Every night he watched her die, helpless to save her.

Abruptly he got up, glancing at the chronograph - 03:00, five more hours until he was due on the bridge. Pulling on some clothes, he left his quarters and headed to the transporter room, beaming over the Endeavour. Once there, he went straight to sickbay, where the Vulcan T'lia was still on duty.

She looked up as the Klingon entered her sickbay. "How can I help you?" she enquired courteously.

Krang hesitated. "I wanted to see how my men are getting on," he said. He knew that he needed help, but now that he was actually here, he regretted it, not wanting to admit his weakness.

"Come into my office," T'lia invited him, "We can talk privately there." Leading the Klingon captain into her office and shutting the door behind him, she gestured for him to sit down, saying, "You didn't come here at this time of the night to discuss your injured crewmen. What can I do to help you?"

Krang took the chair she indicated, but for several moments, he did not speak. Then he asked, "This meeting will remain confidential?"

T'lia nodded, "Provided what you tell me does not endanger the ship," she said, "Then, yes, it will be completely confidential."

The Klingon took a deep breath. "I've been having nightmares," he said, "I want you to give me something to make them stop."

"How long has this been going on?" T'lia asked.

Krang's voice was harsh as he answered, "I do not wish to discuss it."

T'lia had become accustomed to dealing with Klingon patients since her assignment to Endeavour and she had learned quickly how to handle them. "Captain Krang," she said firmly, "If you want me to help you then you'll have to give me something to work with. Now, I'll ask you again. How long has this been going on?"

Krang growled in the back of his throat, but answered her question. "From the day I learned my family were dead," he said starkly, "Every night I watch them die and I can't do anything to save them."

"I suppose there's no point in suggesting counselling," T'lia said, "It would help you to talk about it."

"And what can a counsellor tell me that I don't already know?" Krang flared, "Your family are dead. It's your fault, get over it!"

"Is that what you think?" T'lia asked, finally beginning to understand the guilt and self recrimination she had seen in his eyes. "That it's your fault?"

"They wanted to come with me," Krang told her bitterly, "I told them they would be safe on Frontera and when the Jem'Hadar attacked, they died because I wasn't there to protect them."

T'lia was silent for a moment, thinking over her options. She understood all too well what it was to lose a life-mate. A healer like herself, Soketh had resigned from a prestigious position at the Vulcan Medical Institute at the beginning of the Dominion War in the belief he could do more good on board a starship. The ship he had been assigned to, the USS Lexington, had been destroyed with the loss of all hands six months later. Captain Mackenzie had gone to her quarters that night to give her the bad news only to find her unconscious. As was traditional among her people, she had been bonded to Soketh at the age of seven and the sudden breaking of that bond as he had died, had almost killed her.

Krang however was not Vulcan. There was no broken telepathic bond to endanger his life although T'lia would be the first to acknowledge that this in no way lessened his grief or the pain of his bereavement. Carefully she considered how best to help him. She could give him the medication he wanted but that would do nothing to resolve the deeper problems. It would stop the nightmares but not remove their cause. Or she could use the mind-meld. Unfortunately the majority of non-Vulcans were very wary of telepathic healing techniques and she knew of very few humans, and no Klingons that would agree to such a thing. Nevertheless, she would give him the choice. "I can give you some tablets," she told him, "They will put you into a deeper sleep cycle, avoiding REM so you won't dream."

"I get the impression that's not your preferred option," Krang said, his perceptiveness catching T'lia by surprise. "What else do you have in mind?"

"If you would allow it," T'lia answered, "I can use Vulcan healing techniques."

"You mean the mind-meld?" Krang said slowly, considering what she had told him. "I've seen it done. I won't pretend I like the idea." He paused, staring at the Vulcan for a moment. "T'lia, I am Hegh'Ta's captain, my crew rely on me. I can't afford to continue like this. We'll be going into battle soon and any weakness on my part could be fatal for them. If you think this mind-meld can help me then go ahead. Do it."

Once again, T'lia reflected, the Klingon captain had caught her by surprise. The healing meld might be the logical course of action, but she really had not expected him to agree to it. "You may be assured," she told him, "that I will in no way invade your privacy. The private parts of your mind will remain private." At his nod, she continued, "Now, I want you to forget about me. Just close your eyes and focus on the dreams."

As the Klingon obeyed her, closing his eyes, she moved closer to him, and raising her hand, she placed it on his face, her fingers reaching for the contact points. She felt him stiffen at her touch but he did not pull away. "My mind to your mind…" She murmured the traditional words and as they linked, she was barely aware of his voice joining hers "…My thoughts to your thoughts." Despite the litany however, this was not a two way meld. Healers were taught at an early stage to shield their own minds from their patients.

Krang was very tense as she entered his mind, and his first instinct was to resist the intrusion but her mental touch was warm and gentle and he forced himself to relax, allowing her to proceed.

T'lia was surprised to find that his mind was well disciplined. He had followed her instructions perfectly, shutting off everything that was irrelevant and focusing completely on the dreams. Following his thought patterns she was led to the image of a Terran woman, a fairly ordinary looking woman, but in his eyes, something special. There were children with her. She could feel powerful emotions connected with the images – love, pride, happiness, then as the Jem'Hadar appeared, fear and anger. She watched with Krang as the enemy soldier slaughtered his family. Slowly, carefully, she slipped deeper into his mind, beginning to apply the healing techniques that would put an end to his nightmares.

Finally, her work done, she began to withdraw, pulling back out of the meld until once again they were two separate people. Dropping her hand from his face, she released him and stepped back.

Released from the meld, Krang sat still for a moment, then slowly put his hand up to touch his face. He could still feel the imprint of her mind on his and the contact points where she had touched him seemed to burn. But that was just his imagination. He got to his feet. "Thank you, T'lia," he said, suddenly fighting the urge to yawn. He glanced at the time, surprised to note that only half an hour had gone by. There was still plenty of time to get some rest before he was due on the bridge. He was tired and for the first time since his wife's death, he knew his sleep would be undisturbed.

* * *

On the bridge of the Endeavour, Lieutenant Ch'Pesh double-checked the sensor reading on his console. If he understood the display properly then there was a Federation Starship out here somewhere, and there shouldn't be, not in this area of space. Something was wrong, he knew. This needed a science expert. "Major Speares, I have a problem with the sensor display," he said, making up his mind, "Permission to call Commander Kehlan to the bridge."

Major Speares glanced at the time, only 03:20 but he trusted Ch'Pesh's judgement. "I'll call her" he said. He had a good idea that Kehlan would not be in her own quarters. So far, he was the only one who knew about the relationship that had developed between the captain and first officer. They had managed to keep their romance private and he did not intend to broadcast that information to the crew.

Without any of the other bridge officers noticing, he opened a comm. link to the Captain's quarters. "Major Speares to Commander Kehlan."

A moment later, he heard her sleepy voice acknowledging. "Yes Major?"

So he had guessed right then. "We have some anomalous sensor readings" he explained, "Can you come up to the bridge and take a look?"

"I'm on my way" she answered, "Give me five minutes and I'll be with you."

Four minutes and thirty seconds passed before the bridge doors swished open and both the captain and the first officer came onto the bridge. Immediately, Kehlan made her way to the science console, where Ch'Pesh quickly explained the problem as he got out of her way, allowing her to sit down. Reading through the data, she made a few adjustments to the controls before saying, "Well done, Ch'Pesh. You were right to call me. There is definitely something wrong here. I don't like this."

"What is it, Kehlan?" Captain Mackenzie asked her, coming over to stand behind her chair. Resting his hand on her shoulder, he leaned over her to see what she was looking at.

"I'm not sure, Captain," she told him, continuing to manipulate the controls as she spoke, bringing up more data. "I need some information."

"What do you need to know?" Captain Mackenzie asked immediately.

"Whatever you can tell me about the USS Poseidon and its current mission."

"The Poseidon?" he repeated, surprised. "Why do you need to know that?"

"Please Captain," Kehlan said, "Trust me, it's important."

"I do trust you, Commander," he reassured her, "I'm just surprised. The Poseidon is a Nebula class ship, like Endeavour, but with the research module. She's under the command of an old friend of mine, Captain Christopher Royce." He grinned. "We were room mates at the academy actually. I spoke to him about six months ago via subspace. He told me he was heading out to research the cats-eye nebula they found over in sector eight. Why do you ask?"

"Because I've tracked down a Federation transponder signal," Kehlan said starkly, "If the sensors are correct, then the USS Poseidon is currently located on a planet not very far from here."

"On a planet?" the Captain asked, frowning. That didn't sound right. "Nebula class ships don't have landing capabilities."

"I know, sir. And that's not all," Kehlan said, If Poseidon were anywhere near here, we'd be picking up the ship on sensors, not just its transponder. Sir, I think that the Dominion have destroyed Poseidon and taken the transponder."

"That's not supposed to be possible," Ch'Pesh said in surprise, "Surely Starfleet would know if a ship had been taken."

"Under normal circumstance, yes," Kehlan said, "But not in a cats-eye nebula. The radiation they put out would have left the Poseidon unable to communicate with anyone outside the nebula."

"Damn!" the Captain exclaimed, immediately seeing the implications of that idea. If the Dominion could install a Federation transponder from a vessel nobody even knew was missing on one of their ships, it would allow them to infiltrate deep into allied space without being detected.

"We can't even send a message back to Starfleet to warn them," Major Speares said grimly, he had been listening carefully to the whole conversation. "We are well out of communications range."

"Then it's up to us," Captain Mackenzie said, "How long will it take us to get there?"

"Three point five hours at current speed, sir." The answer came from the ensign at the helm.

The captain was silent for a moment, working out a plan in his head. "Prepare to change course" he instructed them, "Send a message to Hegh'Ta and wake Captain Krang. We need to cloak the ships."

* * *

Wishing a happy Easter to anyone reading this story. Hope you are enjoying it.


	16. Chapter 16

A moment later, the communications officer looked up in surprise, "Sir, a message from Hegh'Ta. They are unable to locate the captain. Their transporter operator states he beamed across here an hour ago. He appears to already be on board Endeavour."

Captain Mackenzie sent an enquiring look at his marine commander. "Has he reported in?"

Speares tapped a quick query into the console. "No, sir, there's nothing in the log."

Captain Mackenzie hit his combadge, "Security, locate Captain Krang and escort him to my ready room." Then turning to his first officer, he told her, "Kehlan, I want the transporter operator disciplined for not following procedure. The bridge should have been informed of any arrivals."

"Aye sir," she answered, "I'll see to it."

The bridge doors opened again, revealing the Klingon captain, escorted by two security officers. Krang stepped onto the bridge, "Captain Mackenzie, I apologise for the breach in protocol," he said immediately, "I realise I should have informed the bridge of my presence on Endeavour. It was an oversight and it won't happen again."

The Terran captain gave a nod of acknowledgement. We'll discuss it in my ready room," he said coolly. As soon as they were in private, he continued, "Krang, you are my friend and I trust you completely, I have no problem at all with you being on board my ship at any time, but…"

Krang sighed, "I know," he said gravely, "These protocols were my idea and I should have followed them."

"True, but that's not what I was about to say," Captain Mackenzie told him, picking his words carefully. Actually, he was concerned about his Klingon friend. Krang looked exhausted and there were shadows under his eyes. "You went off duty at 21:00 last night. I was wondering why you were even awake at this time, let alone on board my ship."

Krang did not answer immediately, but eventually he said slowly, "I have been in the sickbay. I needed to speak with your healer."

Captain Mackenzie nodded, understanding. Klingons were notoriously cagy about anything affecting their health, seeing it as a sign of weakness and he knew there would be no further explanation. At least Krang had had the sense to seek help for whatever was troubling him. He knew that if it endangered the ship then T'lia would come to him, and if not then he didn't need to know. "I need to talk to you anyway," he said, "There's been an unexpected development." Quickly he outlined the situation, explaining it as Kehlan had explained it to him.

The Klingon grasped the problem immediately. "We need to get in there and retrieve the transponder," he said, "Also, have you considered that some of Poseidon's crew may still be alive down there? The Jem'Hadar are known to run prison camps – they use the prisoners to train their troops."

"If there's anyone alive, we'll get them out," Captain Mackenzie said grimly. "In the meantime, we need to begin the cloaking manoeuvre before we're detected."

Krang agreed at once. "I'll get back to Hegh'Ta and set things in motion," he said, standing up and moving towards the door, "I'll inform you as soon as we're ready to begin. Oh, one last thing – can I borrow Kehlan again?"

"I am afraid not," Captain Mackenzie said, shaking his head. "Kehlan will be remaining on board Endeavour. This mission is mine and I will be taking command personally. Anyone on the away team will answer to me – and that includes you."

* * *

Within ten minutes, Krang had returned to his ship, roused the senior officers, explained the situation and got Hegh'Ta into position ready to begin the cloaking manoeuvre.

On his own bridge, Captain Mackenzie gave orders to merge the shields and cede control of the helm to Commander Kargan. There was an almost subliminal flickering sensation as the cloak engaged, rendering the two ships invisible. It felt strange knowing that they were cloaked and that the great bird-of-prey was flying only ten metres above them.

"Major Speares, you're dismissed from bridge duty," Captain Mackenzie said, "I want a detachment of marines ready to beam down when we get to that planet."

"Aye sir," the marine commander responded, getting up and preparing to leave the bridge. "We'll be ready."

"Kehlan, you'll be in command of the ship," the captain told his first officer, "I will be beaming down with Major Speares and the marines."

He was aware, as he said this, of the expressions on his officer's faces. Major Speares, who had been about to step into the turbo-lift, stopped and turned back towards him in surprise. The major started to speak and then changed his mind, sensibly deciding to leave this battle to the first officer. Stepping into the lift, he continued on his way.

Kehlan gave a low growl of protest as she took in his words. "We will discuss this in private, Captain," she snarled, turning her back on him and heading towards his office. He nodded, following her. He had known she would protest and he might as well get the argument over with.

"Captain Royce is my friend," he told her as soon as the door shut behind them, "If there's even the slightest chance that he or any of his crew are down there, still alive, I owe it to them to get them out."

"We will get them out," Kehlan answered him, "But I should be the one to lead the team, not you."

"This is personal," he said insistently, "Whether you like it or not, I will be leading that team."

"The captain's place is on the bridge," Kehlan growled, "You know the regulations as well as I do. Better in fact. You shouldn't be leaving your ship in a time of battle."

"You are Endeavour's first officer," he challenged her. "Are you telling me I made a mistake and that you're not capable of commanding the ship?"

In sheer fury, Kehlan picked up the heavy paperweight sitting on Captain Mackenzie's desk and hurled it at him. He ducked, barely in time and it whizzed past his head, hitting the door to the bridge and shattering.

"I am a Klingon warrior and your mate!" she yelled, looking for something else to throw. "It's my duty to protect you. I should be down there, fighting at your side."

Captain Mackenzie grabbed hold of her by her wrists, preventing her from trying again. She struggled violently, but he was too strong for her and she was unable to break free. "My honour demands that I do this," he said, "You're Klingon, you should understand that."

"I do understand," she said harshly, "But I should be going with you. Don't leave me here."

"Kehlan _-oy,_ " he said, his voice gentling as he heard the desperation in that final plea. "I need to know that if anything happens to me, you'll take command of Endeavour. I trust you to keep my ship safe."

She went still, the unexpected endearment breaking through all her defences. When he spoke to her like that, she could deny him nothing. "I withdraw my objection," she said finally. She reached up and kissed him hard. "Fight well my captain, and come back to me."

* * *

On the bridge of the Klingon ship, the argument between captain and first officer was much more public, almost ending in violence as Kargan actually went so far as to draw his d'k'tahg on his captain. Krang was not impressed by the threat. "If you kill me," he reminded Kargan grimly, "then you become captain and you'll still be stuck on the bridge."

Krang moved then, disarming the younger Klingon without even bothering to unsheathe his own knife. Before Kargan knew it, he was at the mercy of the captain. Krang however had no intention of killing his recalcitrant first officer, he respected him too much for that. He needed an officer who was not afraid to stand up to him.

"It's my duty to go!" Kargan yelled, not at all intimidated by the captain's anger. "By leaving me here you insult my honour."

"Entrusting you with the command of my ship can in no way be construed as an insult to your honour," Krang snarled, a cold warning in his voice. "Take care, Kargan. I tolerate a lot from you but one day you will push me too far."

Kargan gave a wordless growl of anger but he was loyal to his commanding officer, however much the captain might infuriate him at times. "You could leave Vareq in command" he said, making one last effort to change his captain's mind. "I'm not the only pilot onboard. Krell's more than capable of handling the helm."

"You're quite right" Krang said, enjoying the stunned expression on his first officer's face as he capitulated. "And that is exactly what I have decided to do." Handing the confiscated knife back to Kargan, he said, "Choose four squads to accompany us to the surface. The team needs to be multi-skilled. I want good hunters, but also a couple of scientists and engineers."

Klingon soldiers were divided into squads of five – four soldiers and a leader, so that gave him twenty warriors. With the Federation team, that would be about right for a swift strike into enemy territory.

* * *

Standing by an aerial map, Kehlan was briefing the team leaders on the conditions they could expect to find on the enemy planet. Zooming in closer to an area that appeared to be thick jungle, she pointed at a spot. "This is the target," she told them, enlarging the image again. "Sensors are showing a small settlement and that's where the Poseidon's transponder is located. We are also picking up human life-signs in that area, so there are definitely prisoners. Now, there's a lot of kellenite in the soil. It's a transporter inhibitor so you're going to have problems. There are only certain areas clear enough to transport in and out. I've programmed the areas into your tricorders so you'll be able to find them."

"Would pattern enhancers help?" Major Speares queried.

Kehlan nodded, "Yes, but in combat conditions you can't rely on having the time to set them up properly." Indicating a spot on the map a short distance from the target, she continued "This is your beam-down site. It's just under one kilometre north east of the encampment. We're designating it as the rendezvous point, which means we'll be monitoring it. If anything goes wrong, get back to that site and you'll be beamed up automatically."

"What about the Jem'Hadar?" Krang asked, "Can you give us an idea of how many are down there?"

"Not accurately," Kehlan responded, "The Jem'Hadar have personal cloaking devices. The number picked up by the sensors is fluctuating between fifty and seventy in a five kilometre radius around the encampment. We can assume there are more than that as you go further out."

Captain Mackenzie spoke then. "We have two priorities on this mission. The first and most important is to find and destroy the transponder. The second is to rescue anyone being held prisoner on that planet." Pausing, he looked at the other officers seated round the table before beginning to explain his battle plan. "This is how we're going to do it…"


	17. Chapter 17

Quietly and carefully the away team made their way through the thick jungle-like undergrowth. Dressed in battle fatigues like the marines, Captain Mackenzie could not help being impressed. It was the first time he had tried the newest style of camouflage gear. Like the chameleon it was named for, the suit changed to match its surroundings and glancing at his companions, he could see that it worked extremely well. He was heavily armed as were the marines, a phaser rifle slung over his shoulder, but instead of the standard issue marine knife, the great katana hung at his side. Captain Krang and the other Klingons were of course, dressed in their usual battle uniforms, most of them armed with disruptors and the inevitable bat'leth or mek'leth.

As well as the marines and the Klingons, Captain Mackenzie had two SCE officers on his team. The Starfleet Corps of Engineers were unlike normal ship's engineers in that they were highly trained to work under combat conditions and with just about any form of alien technology they came across in the course of a mission. It was only since the beginning of the Dominion war that combat engineers had become part of the standard crew of a starship. Captain Mackenzie knew that on some ships there was resentment between the SCE officers and regular engineering staff, but he had tried his hardest to ensure that there would be no such problem on Endeavour. With the war going so badly, Starfleet needed every advantage it could get and there was no room for petty squabbles over rank and position on board his ship.

Stopping for a moment, Captain Mackenzie checked their position. According to their tricorders, they were now only half a kilometre from the Jem'Hadar encampment. Somewhere nearby a twig snapped, sounding disproportionately loud in the stillness and the team froze, but it was just an animal going about its business. They were all aware though, that as they got closer to their target, they ran the risk of running into an enemy patrol, and with the personal cloaks the Jem'Hadar used, they might not even know until it was too late.

They were already aware that their communicators were useless. Immediately on beaming down, Captain Mackenzie had tried to contact the ship, only to get nothing but static. On testing, it had quickly become evident that not only could they not reach the ship, but they would be unable to communicate with each other as well. Somewhere, not too far away, something was giving off a jamming signal.

Getting closer, they could hear the sounds of battle emanating from the encampment. Obviously the Jem'Hadar were indulging in another one of their little entertainment matches with one of the prisoners. Reaching the edge of the jungle, the marines stopped, carefully looking out from the trees.

" _QI'yaH!_ " Captain Mackenzie cursed under his breath. The Klingon captain glanced him in amusement, his Terran friend hadn't even noticed he was swearing in Klingon. But despite his smile, he too was aware of the deadly danger they were in.

The scene in front of them was not what the sensors and tricorders had led them to expect. There was no encampment there in the field, but a huge Jem'Hadar warship, hidden from space by some sort of holographic technology. In space it would dwarf Endeavour and was bigger even than the new Sovereign class starships. From the look of things, it had crash landed, but it was equally obvious that repairs were well under way and that it wouldn't be long before it was space-worthy again. The transponder signal was, predictably enough, coming from somewhere inside the great vessel.

Suddenly everything had altered. Other than the two combat engineers, they had only forty marines with them and if the ship in front of them was fully crewed, there could be a couple of hundred Jem'Hadar, probably more, in the area. If they were to succeed in this mission, their strategy would have to be completely changed.

Silence was imperative now. If they could hear the enemy, then the enemy would be able to hear them. Krang caught the other captain's attention and silently indicated that they should fall back. Captain Mackenzie nodded, and after quietly passing on the order to the marines, the group disappeared back into the jungle. They went only far enough to ensure that they could talk quietly without any danger of their voices carrying back to the Jem'Hadar. They had very little time. Every moment they delayed increased the risk of running into a patrol and blowing the mission. Discussing their ideas, the two captains found that they were thinking along very similar lines. Quickly, the Terran captain passed on his orders to the troops and set their plans into action.

As Major Speares and the marines went on their way, circling round to approach the Jem'Hadar ship from another angle, the two captains, the Klingons and the engineering team headed back to their earlier position at the edge of the clearing, the one they had so recently abandoned. They would wait there until the marines had created their diversion and then they would launch an all out assault on the enemy ship.

Getting closer to the edge of the jungle, the two captains moved ahead of their troops, scouting out the ground. Suddenly Krang froze and held up a hand for silence. Grabbing hold of the Federation captain, he pulled him back into the undergrowth and crouched down. Knowing that Klingons had superior hearing, Captain Mackenzie did not argue but kept very still, waiting. Then he too heard it. Footsteps, coming closer. Two Jem'Hadar soldiers came tramping right past their position, never realising that the two men were there. The Klingon indicated to Captain Mackenzie that he should remain where he was and before the Terran could object, he had slipped from his position, coming up behind one of the soldiers. The Jem'Hadar never had a chance. Krang's attack was lightning fast, one arm snaking around the enemy soldier's neck, pulling his head back, while the d'k'tahg in his other hand swiftly slit his throat. Contemptuously tossing the body aside, Krang lashed out with his knife at the second soldier, killing him before he even realised what was happening. It was over in seconds, neither of the two soldiers even had a chance to cry out.

"That's two less to worry about," Krang said calmly, wiping his knife and putting it back into his belt.

Mackenzie stared at the two bodies for a moment. The Klingon's technique had been flawless, both men had died instantly – and more importantly, quietly. "Nice kill," he complimented.

Krang raised a bushy eyebrow at the comment. "I am surprised you approve."

The Terran frowned. "Because I refused to slaughter the prisoners? This is survival – it's them or us. The other would have been nothing more than murder. There's a difference, Krang. You know that."

Krang nodded. Yes, he knew that, he just hadn't been sure until now that the Terran did. He still believed it had been a mistake to leave those prisoners alive. The question still remained in his mind; Mackenzie knew how to use a sword but could he actually kill? Firing a torpedo from the safety of the bridge was not the same as killing in hand to hand combat, staring into the eyes of the enemy as their blood coated your hands…

"Besides," Mackenzie continued, unaware of the dark nature of the Klingon's thoughts, "It _was_ a nice kill… textbook perfect, in fact."

Krang bared his teeth in a fierce grin, accepting the compliment.

The noise level from the Jem'Hadar suddenly increased as a sentry spotted the marine intruders. The marines could easily have killed the sentry without being seen or heard, but the plan was for them to attract as much attention as possible and lead the enemy soldiers away from the ship.

One of the Jem'Hadar, obviously a leader, started shouting orders and a large party of soldiers started to chase after the marines. Another smaller group hustled the prisoners they had been fighting back into the ship, probably returning them to their cells to await either death or further combat. Moments later they returned, some of them taking up guard positions around the ship while others headed out into the jungle to catch up with the others. That was a good sign, Krang thought; it meant that the prison cells could not be too far away from the still open entrance to the ship. He indicated as much to the Terran captain, who nodded in acknowledgement.

Captain Mackenzie was very tense now. Just a few more minutes – they had to wait until the marines had led the enemy far enough away that they would be unable to return in time to assist their comrades. He glanced at the Klingons, knowing that they were itching for battle, but Krang had his men well under control and they did not move. Finally, as the sounds of pursuit faded into the jungle, the Terran captain gave the signal and the team moved out of their cover and towards the enemy ship. They had less than a hundred metres to cover and they moved swiftly, taking the remaining Jem'Hadar by surprise.

Boarding the enemy ship, Captain Mackenzie snapped orders to his engineers who immediately began to manipulate a panel on the wall, trying to figure out how to get the doors to shut. His combat engineers were highly trained, the best in the business, but very little was known about the interior of Jem'Hadar ships. A group of Jem'Hadar soldiers had followed them back to the ship and were attacking them, hoping to prevent their enemies from taking their ship. The team was under attack from both sides now as Jem'Hadar warriors still on board the ship appeared in the corridors, firing their weapons at the intruders. The Klingon soldiers took up a defensive position around the engineers, protecting them and allowing them to work unhindered. After a few minutes of fiddling with the panel, the doors finally closed with a deep clanging sound.

"That's it, sir," the senior engineer, Lieutenant Davis, said with a satisfied grin, "The locks are engaged, and I've jammed them. It won't hold forever but it'll do until we can get the shields up."

"Well done," Captain Mackenzie responded, "Now, find the control room and secure it. Once it's ours, we can secure the rest of the ship and do what we came here to do."

Swiftly the group moved through the corridors of the enemy ship, spreading out and attacking the Jem'Hadar defenders. The fighting was fierce but slowly, bit by bit, the attackers prevailed and the enemy soldiers were forced to fall back. Firing his disruptor, one of the Klingons ducked into an open doorway and gave a triumphant shout.

It was Kargan. "Captain, in here," he yelled. "I've found the control room."

His words were cut off by the sounds of clashing metal and disruptor fire. As he and the rest of the team moved in to back up the Klingon first officer, Captain Mackenzie could hear him swearing under his breath as he fought. The fire-fight was intense but short and the bridge of the Jem'Hadar ship was soon theirs. In the manner that had become standard practice since the advent of the Dominion, they swept the control room with phaser fire, checking for the presence of shapeshifters. They could afford to take no chances – the layout of the ship was unfamiliar to them and if a Changeling was present it could be disguised as almost anything.

"There's nothing here, Captain," Kargan said in satisfaction as they finished the sweep, "Nobody here but us."

"Then let's get the job done," Captain Mackenzie said impatiently.

Krang held up a hand. "Wait," he said, his tone betraying the tension he felt. He turned slowly, surveying the room with suspicious eyes, looking for something, anything out of the ordinary. "Something isn't right."

"What is it?" Captain Mackenzie asked, also looking round, not sure what he was looking for, but the Klingon captain's caution was contagious and he knew that he should not ignore it.

Krang did not respond immediately. He didn't know what was wrong but all his instincts were screaming at him now, warning him of imminent danger. But from what? The phaser sweep had found nothing. The control room was secure now, so what was making him feel so edgy? "I wish I knew," he said eventually.

Removing his tricorder from his belt, he started to scan the room, stepping closer to the central column as he did so. "Absolutely nothing," he muttered in disgust. He turned back to face the Federation captain, bumping against the column as he did so and the tricorder suddenly went wild, bleeping loudly as the central column seemed to explode upwards and outwards. The polished titanium surface rippled and changed colour as at incredible speed, it flowed like molten gold into a new shape. Its form fluctuating wildly as though it could not decide what shape to take, it was attacking the Klingon captain, who, at such close quarters, had no way of defending himself from the thing that was intent on wrapping itself around his body and choking the life out of him.

* * *

Thank you to Krisarna for the reviews, I always value your opinions. Yes, Kehlan was a bit quick in going after what she wanted, Klingon females are quite straightforward about that sort of thing and as you mention, she knew there was no point in waiting for him to make the first move.

Dear Guest, you are right, they did take a big risk going after the enemy ship while they were supposed to be protecting the freighter, it was a little on the irresponsible side and funnily enough, one scene which I cut out, but maybe I should reconsider and put back in, had the frieghter captain doing his nut at the two captains for putting his ship at risk.

Krisarna, Krang's orders were to attend a conference, which he missed, there was no other reason for him to go to Earth, hence he decides to wait and cause some trouble for the Dominion in accordance with Kay'vin's orders, until he hears otherwise.


	18. Chapter 18

Several of the Klingons moved to attack the changeling, but Captain Mackenzie, nearer than the others, got there first, throwing himself at the monster that was killing his friend. The shapeshifter, reacting with a speed and strength that was inhuman, formed a tentacle that smashed into the Terran and sent him crashing to the floor. But while Captain Mackenzie's attack had not harmed the Changeling, neither had it been completely ineffectual. With a terrifying ease, the Changeling violently threw Krang away from it and solidifying into a form vaguely resembling a man, turned to contemplate its new victim. That momentary respite was all the Klingons needed. They had been unable to open fire without killing their own captain but now there was nothing to stop them. In its arrogance, or maybe it was desperation, the Changeling had made a fatal mistake. Kargan, his disruptor set to full power, was the first to fire. Then a second and a third Klingon opened fire, then another. Lying on the floor where he had fallen, still coughing, Krang fired his own weapon. The Changeling staggered but somehow, kept moving toward its target. Only half conscious, Captain Mackenzie watched it come towards him. He raised his phaser rifle, taking aim, but hesitated. His vision was swimming and there seemed to be three of them. Which one should he fire at? Hazily, hoping for the best, he chose the middle one and fired.

With so many weapons firing at it, the Changeling stopped moving and began to sway, emitting a thin wailing sound as its rippling golden body began to dissolve, fading into darkness under the immense power of the combined energies that were tearing it apart. As suddenly as it had begun, it was over. The Changeling seemed to collapse in on itself until it was no more than a golden puddle on the deck. Then the glow was gone, leaving only a charred, blackened mess to show that the Changeling had ever existed.

Krang got to his feet. His throat felt as though it was on fire and unconsciously he rubbed it. The Changeling had come very close to strangling him to death. Seeing that his _Terragnan_ friend was struggling to sit up, he moved over and helped him. "Are you all right?" he asked hoarsely, finding it hurt to speak.

Captain Mackenzie nodded and wished he hadn't. His eyesight was beginning to clear now, and there no longer seemed to be three of everyone, but the motion made his head pound. Still sitting on the deck, he looked around him, seeing that the engineers were already getting to work. "You were right about something being wrong," he said quietly, "There was a Founder on board." Raising his voice to address the engineers, he said, "Lieutenant Davis, we need to get those shields up. Then see if you can pull up a schematic of this ship so we can locate the prisoners."

"Already working on it, sir," the lieutenant said calmly. Pulling a tool out of the kitbag slung over his shoulder he began to take a panel apart. Kerrik, the Klingon engineer moved to assist him.

While they worked on the ship's shielding system, the younger Starfleet engineer, a Bajoran woman named Marin went over to a panel on the other side of the bridge. It didn't take her long to pull up a schematic diagram of the ship. She studied it for a few minutes before looking up and saying "The brig is one deck down from here, sir. Turn right out of here, and a few metres down the corridor, you'll find a stairway. Go down it and turn left." Consulting the screen in front of her again for further information, she continued "You'll see a panel on the wall – press the glyph shaped a bit like a star and it'll lower the forcefield around the cells."

"Have you got those shields up yet?" the Klingon captain snapped at the other two engineers.

The answer came from Kerrik, "Just another moment…" Muttering under his breath in Klingon, the engineer reached over the open panel, his fingers seeming to dance over the controls. " _Qapla_! That's it, shields are up now."

"Good," Captain Mackenzie said, "Now let's get the rest of this ship secured and under our control."

* * *

Captain Christopher Royce paced up and down the small cell that was confining him and his fellow officers. There were five of them locked in the tiny room. Just five of them left. There had been ten of them crowded into the cell when they were first captured. He knew there were other crew members being held in other cells, he had seen them during his occasional combat sessions with the Jem'Hadar, but he didn't know how many were left. Too few, he thought, grieving for the wasted lives. There had been a hundred and eighty souls on board Poseidon when they were attacked back in the cats-eye nebula. Now most of them were dead. He gave a sigh of frustration and carried on pacing. Six steps. That was all it took to cross the room. Then turn, six steps back and turn again.

"Will you stop that pacing up and down!" The complaint came from his security officer, Commander Elana Kal. An attractive dark haired woman, the brown markings on either side of her face and neck identified her as a Trill. The Kal symbiont was relatively young - Elana was its first host and if they didn't manage to get out of here, was likely to be its last. Sitting on the floor in a corner of the cell, her yellow Starfleet uniform was as tattered and bloodstained as his own. Some of the blood was fresh. It had been her turn to fight the Jem'Hadar and she was lucky to be alive. The medical care in the prison wasn't exactly up to Federation standards and she still wasn't recovered from the last time she had been forced to fight. When they had come for her a short time ago and dragged her out of the cell, Captain Royce had intervened, trying to protect her, begging the soldiers to take him instead, but they had simply laughed and pushed him out of the way.

"I just want to know what's going on out there" Captain Royce said apologetically, somehow forcing himself to stand still. It wasn't easy.

"I already told you" Elana Kal said wearily, "I didn't see what happened. Someone attacked a sentry and the next thing I knew, they were hustling me back in here."

"Maybe it's a rescue attempt," Lieutenant Baker said hopefully. A tall, sandy haired Terran, Morgana was another one lucky to be alive. She had been Poseidon's communications officer but she had been studying karate for years and it was her skill in that discipline that had enabled her to hold her own in the contests with the Jem'Hadar. Even so, like Elana Kal, she was in poor shape.

"Don't be ridiculous," Elana snapped, "No-one even knows Poseidon's been taken."

The other two men in the cell remained silent. Poseidon's science officer, Lieutenant Michael Johann was a big blond man, who despite his name, hailed from Austria. He rarely spoke anyway so his silence was nothing unusual, but Captain Royce was worried about the final member of the group. Commander Hassan ibn Ahmed was descended from the Bedouin tribes that still roamed Earth's deserts. His wanderlust had manifested itself in a desire to explore the stars and life in Starfleet had suited him perfectly. But, accustomed to wide open spaces, Poseidon's first officer was suffering the most in his enforced confinement. He had fought savagely whenever it was his turn to fight the Jem'Hadar, and Captain Royce, while he was no doctor, suspected that he was bleeding internally. In his current condition, it was likely that he would not survive the next fight.

"It's not ridiculous," Lieutenant Baker said defensively, getting up and moving closer to the forcefield. The immensely powerful field flickered slightly, as though warning her not to get too close. "Someone's attacking the Jem'Hadar. That's got to be a good sign."

"The enemy of my enemy is my friend." Everyone stopped and turned in surprise. Those were the first words Commander Ahmed had said for three days. But he said no more and after a moment the bickering continued.

"It's probably just some internal scuffle," Elana Kal said pessimistically. Any hope of rescue or escape had long since been knocked out of her.

"Elana, you really are…"

Captain Royce had finally had enough. "Stop that squabbling!" he roared. "Don't you understand? We have to stick together if we want to survive. We can't give in to this."

Silence fell. And into the silence there came the faintest of sounds from outside.

Lieutenant Johann got up and joined Morgana Baker by the forcefield. "Listen."

The sounds got louder, coming closer. The distinctive sound of weapons clashing and disruptors firing filled the air. Then, footsteps running past. The prisoners looked at each other, hope dawning, and with it fear. Who was out there, what was happening? Was it Starfleet or just some sort of Jem'Hadar rebellion or exercise? Instinctively they all knew that this was the end. Either they were about to be rescued or they were about to die. Either option would be an improvement on their current status. For a while it looked as though their hopes were in vain as everything went quiet. Then they heard footsteps again, walking this time, and it didn't sound like Jem'Hadar. By now, all of them were on their feet, standing by the forcefield, quietly waiting. The footsteps came closer, then stopped. They heard the low hissing sound that signalled the lowering of the outer forcefield, then more footsteps. In just a moment they would be able to see who it was. But whoever or whatever was approaching them, anything was better than being left to rot in this prison, they were all in agreement on that.

* * *

Out in the jungle, Major Speares and the marines were waging guerrilla warfare on the Jem'Hadar troops. It was something they were expert at, and laying traps as they went, they led the enemy soldiers deeper and deeper into the jungle, taking them as far as possible from the downed ship. Some of the marines pressed on noisily through the dense undergrowth, encouraging the Jem'Hadar to follow them, while the rest of the team faded back, allowing the enemy to pass them and then attacking from the sides and from behind, striking quickly and quietly before melting back into the jungle as though they were ghosts.

Finally deciding they had gone far enough, Major Speares began to turn the team towards the east, bringing them round in a great circle, that would eventually lead them back towards the ship.

One of his marines tapped him on the shoulder, gaining his attention. Showing him the readings on the tricorder he held, the man said quietly, "Major, another group of Jem'Hadar have appeared on sensors."

"How many?" Major Speares asked, tensing.

"Thirty-two," the marine answered, "They're 1.2 kilometres south east of our position, heading this way. There's also another large group heading towards the ship."

"Damn!" The major swore, envying his captain's knowledge of Klingon curses. That language was just so wonderfully expressive when it came to swearing.

There was no time now for further cat and mouse games. The original group of Jem'Hadar following them was much smaller than it had been when they set out and it was time to finish them off. Quietly, he gave the order for an all out attack and the fighting began in earnest.


	19. Chapter 19

Back on board the Jem'Hadar ship, all areas were now secure and Captain Mackenzie was finally on his way to the holding cells. Finding the panel on the wall, he saw it was exactly as Ensign Maren had described. Searching for and finding, the symbol she had described to him - it was only vaguely shaped like a star but there was nothing else that fitted the description - he pressed it and watched with satisfaction as with barely a flicker, the outer forcefield separating the cells from the rest of the ship collapsed. Entering the previously inaccessible corridor, he could see cells on either side. The layout was, he noted, not so different from that of a Starfleet facility - standard cells, with three walls and the fourth side open to the corridor, only the powerful force-fields preventing the prisoners from escaping.

The air down here smelt of death and decay and poor hygiene. Mackenzie wrinkled his nose in disgust; obviously the Jem'Hadar cared little for the welfare of their prisoners. Breathing shallowly, he moved into the dark, dirty corridor.

The nearest cells were empty but he could hear movement further down the corridor. At least someone was still alive down there, Captain Mackenzie thought.

"Anybody there?" he called, hoping that they were right and these prisoners would turn out to be survivors of the Poseidon, hoping his old friend was still alive.

The sounds of movement intensified and a voice, full of both hope and suspicion called back, "Who's there?"

Captain Mackenzie felt a sense of relief. That sounded like Christopher Royce. "I'm Captain James Mackenzie of the USS Endeavour," he answered, "We're here to rescue you." He continued moving down the corridor until he found the first occupied cell. "Chris, I'm glad to know you're still alive," he said, studying the control panel by the cell. Locating the star shaped glyph, he pressed it and the force-field dropped. "Come on, let's go."

Nobody moved. "How do we know you're really the captain of the Endeavour?" a Trill woman in a tattered security uniform asked, "You could be a Founder."

"I could be, but I'm not," Captain Mackenzie answered impatiently, "Now do you want to get out of here or not?"

"Commander Kal is right," Captain Royce said quietly. "If you're really my old friend, then prove it."

"We were room-mates at the academy," Captain Mackenzie said, "I could mention the crush you had on that Vulcan commander that taught advanced tactics, but I wouldn't want to embarrass you in front of your crew."

The other man laughed suddenly, remembering the mischief they had got up to in their academy days. "That's James Mackenzie," he said to his security officer, "I never told anyone else about that."

Not bothering to wait for the prisoners to follow him, Captain Mackenzie was already moving the check the other cells. The next three held prisoners from the Poseidon and a further one, surprisingly held a small group of Klingons. There were three men and a woman, all of them wearing the standard military uniforms and looking the worse for wear. They had obviously been involved in several fights with the Jem'Hadar soldiers although he had an idea that they had not been unwilling to fight their enemies. Evidently more vessels than just the Poseidon had been destroyed by this massive warship. It was unusual though to find Klingon survivors. Most Klingon warriors would die before they would allow themselves to be taken prisoner. He hesitated for a moment, wondering if he should call for one of his own Klingons to talk to them and explain the situation, then decided he could handle it.

"I am Captain Mackenzie of the USS Endeavour, allied with the IKC Hegh'Ta under the command of Captain Krang," he told them, as he prepared to lower the forcefield.

The woman, who from the insignia on her uniform was the ranking officer, stiffened. "I knew the captain of the Hegh'Ta," she snarled, "His name was not Krang."

Captain Mackenzie sighed. So much for being able to handle it, he thought grimly, all it had taken was one sentence and he'd already managed to alienate them. He had never met the previous captain who had died in the same battle that had brought Endeavour and Hegh'Ta together and could not remember the man's name. Quickly he explained as much to the imprisoned Klingons.

The woman nodded, for the moment at least, accepting his explanation. "I'll kill you later if you turn out to be lying. I am Lieutenant Chadra of the IKS Pak't Marr." She gestured towards her companions, "These are all that are left of the crew now. Now let us out so we can find an honourable death in battle."

"I'm hoping none of us will die," Captain Mackenzie said wryly, dropping the forcefield as he spoke.

"You can't be expected to understand, _Terragnan,_ " one of the Klingon males growled, his voice rising as he spoke, "Our capture dishonours us. Only death can redeem…"

His angry words were interrupted by the arrival of the Klingon captain. "Be silent, crewman," Krang snapped, his cold voice cutting through the tension. Pushing through the group of released prisoners until he stood by his colleague's side, he pulled out his knife and continued, "The war is by no means over yet. The Empire needs live warriors to fight for it, not dead fools. You'll have plenty of opportunities to redeem yourselves, I can promise you that."

The crewman began to bluster and Chadra lost her temper with him. Grabbing hold of his uniform collar, she pulled him forward and down, so that his face was level with hers. "Either shut up," she hissed, "Or I'll kill you myself." She shoved him away from her again and turned to face the newcomer. Despite the lack of decorations or insignia on his uniform, she instinctively recognised him as a senior officer and addressed him as such. "He's right about one thing, sir," she said, "We should not have allowed ourselves to be taken prisoner. Is there really hope for us?"

"If General Martok can retain his honour after two years as a Dominion prisoner, then there's hope for all of us" Krang responded, understanding her concern. Then he addressed his _Terragnan_ friend. "Lieutenant Davis sent me with a message - He says that Major Speares and the marines are returning and suggests, with all due respect of course, that we should take the opportunity to get the prisoners back to the rendezvous point."

"Have they finished in the control room?"

"No, they are going to need some more time," Krang replied.

Captain Mackenzie made a gesture of negation. "I don't like leaving them."

"He told me you'd say that," Krang said, "He asked me to point out that with the shields up they are perfectly safe here until we can come back for them, by which point they expect to be finished here and ready to leave. He's right, James. The way is relatively clear at the moment, but it won't stay that way for long. We need to get these people to safety while we can."

Reminding himself that they were not abandoning the engineering team, Captain Mackenzie reluctantly gave a nod of agreement. Davis was good at his job, he knew what he was doing and would not put his people in unnecessary danger. Besides, some of the rescued prisoners were in desperate need of medical attention. Waiting could cost lives and that was unacceptable.

"Very well, he conceded, "Let me finish checking these cells and then we'll go."

The remaining cells were all empty, except for the very last one which had only one occupant, a Romulan woman in a tattered Tal'Shiar uniform. Unusually for a Romulan she was blonde, her hair cut into the typical military style favoured by Romulan officers. She was in poor shape, with green tinged bruises visible on her face. Like all the other prisoners, she had been forced to fight for her life over and over again.

"Who are you?" Captain Mackenzie asked her.

"My name is Colonel Rhiana t'Sahen," she answered, "I am an officer of the Romulan Tal Shiar. More than that I am not required to tell you.

" _taHqeq_ Romulan," the belligerent Klingon male snarled, "Leave her to rot!"

"We leave no-one behind," Krang snapped back. "And I remind you that we have an alliance with the Romulans now. I will not allow your petty differences to endanger this mission. It's the Jem'Hadar we should be fighting, not each other."

"Alliance?" It was the Romulan woman who spoke but Krang could see equally confused looks on the faces of the Klingon prisoners.

"There's a Romulan/Federation/Klingon alliance in effect" Captain Mackenzie said, releasing the forcefield that was holding the Romulan prisoner. "There's no time to explain in detail."

She stepped out of her cell, eyeing the Klingons cautiously, but other than giving her filthy looks, they made no move against her.

Signalling to the rescued prisoners to follow them, the two men joined up with their troops and began to lead the way back through the corridors to the entrance to the ship. They had no sooner got there when there was a buzzing sound as one of the engineers in the command centre, who had been tracking their progress, released the controls that were holding the door closed and lowered the ship's shields momentarily. Krang went through first, checking it was safe. Seeing that there were no enemies in the immediate vicinity and that the Starfleet marines were indeed waiting for them, he called to the others to join him. One by one they all left the relative safety of the great ship, Captain Mackenzie taking up the rear to ensure that everyone got out. As he passed through the door, it began to close behind him and he sensed rather than saw or heard, the shields being raised again.

It felt good to be in the fresh air again, Krang thought, taking a deep breath. Somehow, the air on that ship felt stale and dead. He expelled the breath from his lungs and took another one. He could see the prisoners doing the same. They had been on the ship for much longer than he had and no doubt were glad to be free and breathing clean air. Surveying the area for signs of trouble, he was caught by surprise as suddenly the Klingon prisoners broke away from the group. He started to shout after them, but all they were doing was arming themselves, retrieving weapons from the Jem'Hadar bodies that lay strewn around them. Some of the Starfleet prisoners, those who were capable, seeing what they were doing, did likewise.

Krang gave an approving nod. They were going to need every available warrior if they were going to get out of here. He had no illusions that things were going to stay as peaceful as they were at that moment – there had to be a lot more Jem'Hadar on this planet and many of them would be within striking distance of their ship. They would be wise to expect an attack at any time. Glancing back at his Federation colleague, he could see that Captain Mackenzie was thinking the same thing.

Actually, they got further than expected before the attack came. They were almost half way back to the rendezvous point when a squadron of Jem'Hadar came bursting out of the undergrowth, firing their weapons as they came.

* * *

Again, a big thank you to Krisarna for the continued support and the questions that make me think about what I am writing. Keep the questions coming. I've edited chapter 17 in response to your last questions and I think it makes more sense now.


	20. Chapter 20

Monitoring the situation from the bridge of the Endeavour, Kehlan saw the impending crisis as more Jem'Hadar life-signs began to appear in the area surrounding the captain's position. The away team would be outnumbered very soon and with the planetary wide jamming signal the enemy was broadcasting, there was no way to warn them of their danger. It was obvious now, what was causing the jamming signal. The engineers on board the enemy ship had managed to shut down the holographic cloak, rendering the enemy ship visible to Endeavour and Hegh'Ta as they watched from their vantage point high in orbit above the planet.

"Have a squad of marines meet me in the transporter room," Kehlan instructed the ensign at the communications console as she stood up and headed towards the turbo-lift. "And I want a second squad to take a shuttle down as backup. If we can't re-establish communications we won't be able to call for beam-up. Lieutenant Ch'Pesh, as soon as the away team's life-signs are far enough away, your orders are to destroy that ship. The bridge is yours." She was gone before the Andorian officer had a chance to object.

Instructing the computer to take her to deck eight, she waited impatiently as the turbolift began to move. In a hurry as she was, the short journey seemed to take forever but eventually the doors opened again and she went pelting down the corridor to her quarters. There was no time to change into armour so she just grabbed her weapons and was on her way again. Not bothering with the turbo-lift this time, she ran up the two flights of stairs to deck six and made her way to the transporter room. Giving the transporter operator the required coordinates, she quickly explained to the marines what she needed them to do.

The clearing where they materialised was full of the noises and smells of battle… shouts and screams competing with the metallic clash of weapons and the hiss of phaser fire... blood and sweat, mixing with the stench of burnt flesh and other bodily fluids.

Kehlan quickly looked around her, checking out the situation. The two captains were fighting back to back, surrounded by enemy soldiers. Major Speares and his marines were a short distance away. Aided by the Klingons, they were surrounding the prisoners they had rescued, trying to protect them from the Jem'Hadar and get them back to the rendezvous point.

Almost before the transporter beam had released her, Kehlan was moving towards her mate. Gesturing to her troops with a quick hand signal, she instructed them to spread out and engage the enemy.

Captain Mackenzie swung his katana at a Jem'Hadar who had tried to approach the Klingon from behind, almost decapitating him, but another enemy warrior immediately took his place. Turning, he ducked and parried, the motion saving his life as a third enemy took a shot at him with his pistol. The energy beam which should have hit him in the chest, caught him a glancing blow on his upper arm. He gave a gasp of pain, shifting his grip on the sword in an effort to compensate for the injury as the nearest soldier took advantage of his momentary hesitation and renewed his attack.

As the Klingon captain finished off his own opponent with a savage sweep of his bat'leth, another enemy soldier was already moving in, his _kar'takin_ raised in preparation to strike. Cursing, Krang struck him down before turning back to help his friend only to see that Kehlan had got there first.

Mek'leth in one hand and d'k'tahg in the other, she threw herself at the Jem'Hadar who was attacking her mate. Knocking him off balance, they tumbled together to the ground, rolling in the dirt as they struggled for supremacy. The Jem'Hadar was very strong and almost managed to free himself, grabbing hold of her wrist as he did so. The bones in her wrist, already weakened from her previous injury, snapped with an audible crack, forcing her to drop the mek'leth. She was unable to prevent herself from screaming as he squeezed harder and the broken bones shattered.

He must have thought he had won then, but Kehlan took him by surprise. Instead of trying to push him away, she pulled him closer, sinking her teeth into his hand, at the same time slashing open the tube of ketracel-white with her d'k'tahg. In confused shock the Jem'Hadar pulled back, and Kehlan struck again, thrusting upwards, the knife tearing open his chest. With a savage twist she pulled the blade free and stabbed him again. The Jem'Hadar fell forward, pinning her beneath him. The pain in her wrist was agonising as she tried to push his lifeless body off her but she could not move. Gathering her strength to try again, she was surprised when suddenly the weight was gone and she was free. Looking up, she saw the Terran captain. He bent and helped her to her feet. "Thanks," she said tersely, quickly assessing her injury. She could still fight, she decided, glad she had grabbed her mek'leth rather than the larger, two-handed bat'leth that most Klingons preferred in combat.

Keeping her damaged wrist close to her body, she shoved the bloodstained d'k'tahg back into her belt and was bending to retrieve her mek'leth from where she had dropped it when Mackenzie's hand gripped her arm, pulling her back to face him. "What are you doing here, Kehlan? I told you to stay on the ship."

"There's more Jem'Hadar approaching through the woods," she told him quickly. "With communications down, we had no way of warning you so I brought reinforcements."

Mackenzie gave a curt nod of acknowledgement. "Well, I can't deny the support is welcome. We'll discuss this later." Releasing his grip on her, he lashed out at another enemy soldier who had got a little too close as they talked.

Hearing the sound of an engine above them, they both looked upwards, to see one of Endeavour's shuttles coming in to land. Good, Kehlan thought, now they had the backup they needed and a way off this planet.

Krang joined them and the three began to fight their way across to where Major Speares and the marines were positioned. The prisoners were in a mess, Kehlan noted, there couldn't be more than about fifteen, maybe twenty of them, all that was left of Poseidon's crew. Most of them were in urgent need of medical attention. Kahless only knew what the Jem'Hadar had done to them.

One of them, in a torn, bloodstained uniform with captain's rank pins, looked as though he was barely able to stand up without assistance. That had to be Christopher Royce, Kehlan guessed, her captain's old friend. He appeared to have taken a disruptor shot to his thigh. The energy blast had cauterised the wound otherwise he would have already bled to death. Despite his infirmity, the man held an enemy disruptor in one hand and was using it to good effect, systematically firing it at any Jem'Hadar who came close enough.

Kehlan was surprised to see that there were some Klingons and even a Romulan amongst the escaped prisoners. All of them appeared injured but were fighting savagely. Seeing a Jem'Hadar soldier de-shroud directly behind one of them, she shouted a warning, but too late. The enemy fired his weapon at point blank range and the Klingon gave an agonised cry as the disruption energies tore him apart. He was dead before he hit the ground. The Jem'Hadar aimed again but the female Klingon took him down before he could fire a second time.

A stray shot hit one of the female prisoners and she gave a cry of pain, pressing one hand against the wound in her thigh in an attempt to stop the bleeding as she staggered and struggled to regain her balance before collapsing in a heap on the ground. The other captain turned and seeing her fall, he gave a howl of fury and threw himself at the Jem'Hadar soldier who had attacked her. The Jem'Hadar had dismissed the injured captain as being of no consequence and was caught by surprise by his action. Knocked off balance, the enemy warrior staggered and went down as the infuriated captain lashed out, using his stolen disruptor as a club.

Crashing to the ground the two combatants rolled over and over, struggling for supremacy until they came to a halt with the Federation captain on top, his hands around the Jem'Hadar's ridged neck. The Jem'Hadar fought to free himself but the captain seemed to have been possessed by the spirit of the old-time berserkers and was unstoppable. The ketracel-white tube dangling loosely from his throat, the Jem'Hadar's struggles became weaker and finally stopped but the Federation Captain was too infuriated to notice, or care, that his enemy was dead and he continued to beat the fallen soldier about the head, over and over until one of his fellow officers, seeing what was happening, pulled him away from the body.

Worried, Kehlan glanced from the prisoners to the shuttle that was coming in to land. "Captain, we need to get the injured to safety."

"Agreed," he said tersely. He raised his voice, "Major Speares, get these people onboard the shuttle and back to Endeavour. Tell them to send the shuttle back for the rest of us."

"Aye, sir!" Seeing the sense in the orders, even if he didn't like leaving the captain in danger, the major agreed and as the shuttle came to a halt several metres away, its doors swinging open to disgorge more marines, he gave a few quick signals to his men and they began to head towards it.

The newcomers disembarked from the shuttle, weapons firing, quickly and efficiently clearing a path for their fellow marines. It took only a few minutes for them to load the rescued prisoners onto the shuttle. The doors began to close and the marines stepped away from the vessel to rejoin the fight. The shuttle rose into the air and a Jem'Hadar fired a weapon resembling a rocket launcher. The shuttle lurched, swerving to one side as a missile struck its undercarriage but it continued on its way, carrying its precious load back to the safety of the Endeavour. The Jem'Hadar fired the weapon again but his shot went wild as he was struck down from behind by a Klingon soldier.

The Starfleet marines, under the able command of Major Speares began to spread out, fighting the Jem'Hadar who were appearing out of the jungle, chased by a group of Klingon warriors. Trying to get back to their ship, the Jem'Hadar found themselves caught in a trap with the Federation on one side and the Klingons on the other.

"Captain, we need to get far away from that ship," Kehlan warned him, "I've ordered Endeavour to destroy it as soon as we are all clear."

"We've got engineers on board," Captain Mackenzie responded, "We need to warn them. Speares, cover us. Kehlan, Krang, you're with me."

As the marines lay down a blanket of covering fire, the three officers started to run, fighting their way through the enemy troops, back towards the ship. In the Jem'Hadar vessel's control room, sensors informed the engineers that their senior officers were arriving and they quickly dropped the shields just long enough to allow them to board the ship.

"I'll wait here," Krang said, taking up a guard position at the entrance to the ship. "Don't be long."

The Terran captain acknowledged and signalling Kehlan to follow him, he began to move quickly through the corridors. The control room was on the same level as the entrance and it took the two officers only a few moments to reach it.

"Report!" the captain demanded, as he entered the room and approached his engineers.

"Captain, we haven't been able to remove the transponder yet, but we're almost there," Lieutenant Davis, the senior combat engineer told him, "We just need a little more time – a few more minutes at most."

"We're running out of time," Captain Mackenzie snapped, "What about the jamming signal?"

Kerrik, poked his head out from underneath the console he was dismantling, "I'm working on it," he growled, "Those _Ha'DibaHmey_ have got it well protected. It'd be easier to just blow up the _khest'n_ ship"

"That's exactly what we're planning," Captain Mackenzie said dryly. "Endeavour's just waiting for us to get clear.

Suddenly the young Bajoran woman gave an exclamation from her position on the other side of the room. "I think I've found it! Kerrik, Lieutenant Davis, come over here and look."

Instantly the other two engineers were at their colleague's side. Kerrik gave a low growl as he examined her work. "Well done, Marin!" he said at last, leaning over her to make an adjustment. "I think we've got it."

There was an audible popping sound as the transponder was released from its protective housing. Lieutenant Davis picked it up and handed it to Captain Mackenzie. The Terran captain put it down and drew his phaser. Changing the setting to maximum, he aimed and fired. The transponder glowed for a moment and then disappeared.

"Mission accomplished" he said, "Now let's get out of here."


	21. Chapter 21

"Sir, we're not going to be able to raise the shields from the outside," Lieutenant Davis said, "Someone's going to have to stay here."

"I will stay," Kerrik said calmly. There was no fear in his eyes – he was a Klingon warrior and he knew his death would be honourable _. Sto-Vo-Kor_ awaited him.

"I'm not leaving anyone behind," Captain Mackenzie stated grimly, "We all go together or we all stay."

"I'm afraid it's necessary," Marin said quietly, "Unless someone stays to raise the shields, we can't stop the Jem'Hadar getting back on board."

"That cannot be allowed," Kerrik snarled, "The ship is disabled but the Jem'Hadar could still use its weapons against us if they regain access. I will prevent that from happening."

Mackenzie considered the problem. "Unnecessary," he decided, "As soon as we are clear, there's going to be several torpedoes worth of explosives hitting this ship."

"And as soon as we leave this ship, the Jem'Hadar will be back inside it and firing weapons," Davis pointed out.

"Not if we destroy the consoles," Kehlan pointed out. Cursing the need to work one-handed, she tucked her mek'leth away and drew her disruptor from its holster. Sparks flew, the stink of scorched plastic filling the air as she opened fire on the nearest computer panel.

"That works for me," Kerrik said with a wry grin, drawing his own disruptor and following suit.

"Will you hurry up," Krang shouted from his position at the entrance to the ship, his voice echoing through the empty corridors, "There's another Jem'Hadar squadron approaching. We need to get out of here."

"Won't be long," Captain Mackenzie shouted back, "We're on our way."

It took the team only a few more seconds to complete the destruction. Gathering their tools together, they quickly made their way back out of the Jem'Hadar ship. Rejoining the Klingon captain, the group dashed away from the ship, towards the relative safety of the nearby jungle. Enemy soldiers were still appearing and despite the reinforcements, they were still heavily outnumbered. Almost immediately they were engulfed in a battle for their lives.

Out of the corner of her eye, Kehlan saw a Jem'Hadar about to attack her captain. Already involved in a fight with two enemy soldiers, he had not noticed and without hesitation, she stepped in and engaged the newcomer. In close quarters such as these, hand weapons were much more useful and Kehlan quickly swapped back to her Mek'leth. The blade clashed with the long, serrated knife he was carrying.

Already injured as she was, Kehlan made a stupid mistake, leaving her guard open as she swung at the enemy soldier and he was quick to take advantage. She pulled back, just a little too slowly and the _kar'takin_ caught her across her ribs. Kehlan staggered, with a shriek of pain and raised her sword to strike back, but the two captains got there first, Krang's bat'leth embedding itself in the Jem'Hadar's heart, while from the other side Captain Mackenzie's katana sliced through his neck, almost decapitating him. Both blows, struck at the same moment, were fatal.

Captain Mackenzie was infuriated. That was the second time in this battle that Kehlan had taken a blow meant for him and he didn't like it at all. He lashed out again with his sword, determined that no-one else would get close enough to his first officer to hurt her again. He was aware of his Klingon friend, once again at his back, defending both of them. Both men were fighting all out and the Terran could see the savage light in the other man's eyes. He did not know that the same light shone in his own eyes. And yet, the blood-lust was not controlling the Klingon in the same way as it seemed to control his men. Fully aware of what was going on around him, Krang used the battle-rage as another weapon. The Klingon captain fought with an economy of motion that was beautiful to see, wasting no energy and watching him, Captain Mackenzie understood what Krang had been trying to teach him in their practice sessions back on Endeavour. If they got out of this alive, he resolved to be a better student.

* * *

On Hegh'Ta's bridge, Vareq had been listening to Kehlan's orders through the open comm. link between the two ships. Double checking the data and finding it correct, he immediately began to formulate his own plans to render assistance to his captain and the away team.

Disengaging the cloak, he sent notification to Endeavour of his intent to de-couple the ships and then released control of the other ship's helm. Then, with a quick order to Ensign Krell at the helm, he took Hegh'Ta low into the planet's atmosphere.

Hegh'Ta's great wings lowered into the firing position as the ship swooped downwards, lower and lower until it was flying below the level of the clouds. It was too soon to attack the Jem'Hadar warship, the away team was still far too close but there was still a lot that the bird-of-prey could do to help. Vareq was a crack shot and by far the best and most accurate gunner on board. Still shouting orders to the rest of the bridge crew, he seated himself at the gunnery console and began to search for a target. It didn't take him long to find one. A group of forty Jem'Hadar soldiers was rapidly approaching the captain's position.

Hegh'Ta swept around, and flying only a few hundred metres above the jungle, sent a volley of deadly green fire into the midst of the enemy soldiers, completely obliterating them. The ship soared upwards, searching for and finding a second target. With another blast of its weapons, the newly identified target shared the fate of the first, quickly becoming nothing more than a blackened, burning hole in the jungle.

The comm. link between the two ships crackled into life just then, Ch'Pesh's voice coming over clearly, "The away teams are moving away from the Jem'Hadar ship. We are preparing to open fire."

"I hope your gunner is good," Vareq shouted "I don't want you hitting us by mistake."

"Then I suggest you keep out of our way," the Andorian officer retorted with a laugh.

From high up in orbit, the Endeavour's phaser banks fired, the deadly yellow beam arcing through the atmosphere and striking the enemy vessel. Hegh'Ta turned again, firing its disruptor cannons as it sped back towards the Jem'Hadar warship. Stranded there on the ground with its shields down, emptied of its crew, the once mighty warship didn't stand a chance against the combined firepower of the two allied ships. Fires took hold along its length, rapidly burning out of control and as the flames reached the engine room, aided by further weapons blasts from Endeavour and Hegh'Ta, the Jem'Hadar ship exploded.

* * *

"Captain… Captain, are you all right?"

Mackenzie slowly opened his eyes and raised his head, letting out a groan as it pounded in protest at the movement. What the..? Why was he lying face down in the dirt?

Something warm and sticky was slowly trickling down his face and he put up a hand to investigate. Blood, he realised; he must have hit his head as he fell. Yes… that was it… he had fallen. He vaguely remembered flying through the air as the shockwave from the blast had hit him, then the ground rising up to meet him followed by a sudden, hard impact that had knocked the breath out of him… and then blackness.

Rolling over onto his back for a moment, he stared up at the sky… a vivid, blue sky that was much more open than it had been a few minutes ago.

"Are you all right, Captain?" The voice was more insistent now and he forced himself into a sitting position, carefully looking around him. It was Speares, he discovered. The marines' commander was standing over him, a look of distinct concern on his face.

"I'm fine," Mackenzie responded, taking the hand Speares offered him and pulling himself back to his feet. "Is everyone else okay?"

"Van Zyl is still unconscious," the marines' commander told him, "Looks like he hit his head pretty hard." He grinned, adding, "It's the quietest he's ever been."

The captain bit back a snicker. Van Zyl was… loud… to say the least; a big South African who seemed incapable of doing anything quietly. It would not be appropriate to comment on that though. "Anyone else?" He looked around him as he spoke, his eyes searching for and finding, Kehlan. She was sitting in the dirt, leaning against a fallen tree trunk, Krang at her side. Beneath the mud that smeared her face, she looked pale and she was holding one arm cradled against her. As Mackenzie watched, the Klingon put an arm around her, helping her to her feet. Relief flooded him, followed immediately by the more negative emptions of anger and even jealousy at the sight of his lover leaning on the other male for support. Turning away from the sight, he forced himself to concentrate on what Speares was telling him.

"Cuts, bruises, a few broken bones and no doubt, a few concussions," the Welshman said, in answer to the captain's question. "We were lucky, sir."

Mackenzie could only acknowledge the truth of that. They _had_ been lucky. Without the injured prisoners to slow them down, the team had been able to move at a good speed and cover enough distance to protect them from the worst of the blast. Despite the force with which they had hit the ground, there seemed to be no major injuries.

The clearing they were in had been almost impenetrable jungle when the blast had hit them and the surrounding jungle was noticeably thinner than it had been. The captain shook his head. "Just how big was that blast?"

"Come and look, sir," Speares invited, his expression both grim and satisfied at the same time. "The warp core exploded. Like I said… we were lucky!"

Side by side, the two men walked back the way they had come. They didn't have to go far, only twenty or thirty metres before the jungle opened out into… nothing. The scene was one of complete devastation. The Jem'Hadar ship was gone, a massive crater of burning debris in its place, and around it, the once verdant jungle had been flattened. He swore at the sight, realising just how fine the ships' gunner's had cut it… he and his team had been barely out of the danger zone when the enemy ship's engines had exploded.

"I think it's mission complete, sir," Speares said quietly, "We've done what we came here to do."

Mackenzie nodded. The prisoners were safe and Poseidon's transponder had been destroyed along with an enemy warship and most of its crew. There was no longer any need for them to be here. "Agreed. Let's get back to the ship."

Turning away from the devastation, the two men made their way back to the group.

Mackenzie checked his tricorder and was both pleased and relieved to see that there was very little kellenite in their current location. Signalling to his team to group together, he activated his combadge. "Mackenzie to Endeavour. We are done here. Can you get a transporter lock on us?"

 _"Stand by, Captain."_ The voice was that of Endeavour's chief engineer. _"There is still some kellenite interference… locking on now. You are clear for transport"_

Mackenzie gave a sigh of relief. "Beam us up."

Moments later, the away team disappeared in a column of sparkling light as Endeavour's transporter beam brought them home.

* * *

Thank you again to Krisarna for another kind review and for your continued support. To answer your question, Kehlan first broke her wrist in chapter 6 when they were using the freighter as bait to attack the Cardassian cruiser.


	22. Chapter 22

The scene in sickbay was one of organised chaos. Every doctor, nurse and paramedic on the ship had been called on duty to deal with the influx of casualties from the battle. Some of the rescued prisoners were lucky to be alive after their ordeal at the hands of the Jem'Hadar and needed immediate medical attention. Both the captains had been injured in the fighting, as had several of the marines, both Klingon and Federation. The two captains though, were conspicuous by their absence, having gone directly to their posts. They would come down for treatment later when the ships were safely back on course to their original target.

A nurse came over to check on Kehlan, but she sent the woman away. "I can wait," she said, somehow managing to hide the pain she was in. "There are people here who need treatment more urgently than me."

Kehlan was still sitting on a bio-bed waiting for treatment when Captain Mackenzie finally came down to the sickbay. He approached her, surveying her critically. When he had seen her tackle the Jem'Hadar attacking him, he'd thought his heart would stop. She had been magnificent in battle, fighting like a tigress and he knew that she had saved his life, almost at the cost of her own. And that was a price he was not willing to pay for his own survival. Seeing her now, covered in blood, mostly Jem'Hadar but too much of it her own, his relief turned to a cold anger. "What did you think you were doing?" he hissed, keeping his voice quiet but letting her know he was absolutely furious. "I gave you an order. How dare you disobey me like that?"

Kehlan closed her eyes, not answering. She didn't have the strength or the will to fight with him right now; she was in too much pain and it was taking all her concentration not to show it.

"You didn't even don armour," he said, disgusted, "How could you be so stupid? Don't you know how close you came to being killed?"

"I saved your life," she answered listlessly. "I did what I had to do." She tried to get up but sank back onto the bio-bed, gritting her teeth to suppress the groan of pain that threatened to escape.

"You are relieved of duty," he told her harshly, hiding his concern for her, "When you're released from sickbay you're to confine yourself to quarters until further notice." Turning away from her, he peremptorily called for a doctor. She was hurt; why was she still waiting for treatment?

The EMH, or Nathaniel as he was known to the crew, approached him immediately.

"Why is Commander Kehlan still waiting?" he demanded, "She requires immediate treatment."

"It's not the doctor's fault," Kehlan protested weakly, "Other people needed help more urgently."

At the other side of sickbay, T'lia finished treating the patient she had been dealing with and came over to Kehlan's side. "I think you've waited long enough," she said to Kehlan, then addressing the hologram, "I'll take over here, Nathaniel. I'd like you to examine our Romulan guest."

Kehlan felt gentle hands pushing her back until she lay prone on the bio-bed. A hypospray hissed against her neck and she began to lose consciousness. The last thing she remembered was hearing the captain's voice as he spoke with the doctors, asking if she would be all right.

* * *

It was a couple of hours later when the Klingon captain finally turned up in Endeavour's sickbay. He had taken a rather nasty gash in his thigh and was limping slightly. His injuries were not serious however and checking on his ship and crew had taken priority over seeking treatment.

Looking around for the healer, he noticed Mackenzie standing by an occupied bio-bed. Moving over to join him, he saw that it was Kehlan lying on the bed, still unconscious after the surgery to repair the shattered bones in her wrist.

"You fought well, James," Krang said in greeting. Any doubts he had harboured about Mackenzie's ability in battle had been more than put to rest. His _terragnan_ friend had fought as honourably as any Klingon and had more than earned the right to call himself a warrior.

He gave an enquiring glance towards Kehlan. "How is she?"

"T'lia assures me she'll make a full recovery," the Terran answered. "Damn it, Krang. Sometimes I really hate this job." Seeing the Klingons look of enquiry, he continued, "Look at all these injuries. And three good men dead."

"Their deaths were honourable," Krang said, meaning only to comfort his friend, but his words had the opposite effect.

"Honourable!" Captain Mackenzie spat the word as though it was something obscene. "I have to write to their families. Do you think honour is going to bring them any comfort?"

Krang stared at his friend in surprise. Sometimes, despite all his years in the Federation, he really did not understand Terrans. "It should comfort them."

"Does it comfort you?" He was being cruel and unfair to his Klingon friend, but right now he did not feel like being reasonable.

The words hit Krang right in the gut. "My wife and children were not warriors, they did not die in battle. Every night I watch them die in my dreams. My…" His voice broke, fresh grief overwhelming him as he continued, "My… youngest was just three years old! No matter how many Jem'Hadar I kill, it will never be enough to pay for their deaths." Blindly he turned away from the Terran and began to move away to find the healer.

Mackenzie stared after his friend, horrified at the pain he had caused. "Krang, I shouldn't have said that. I'm sorry."

Krang stopped but did not turn around. "You are not the only one who lost men today," he said, his voice cold and unforgiving. "Hegh'Ta has a much smaller crew than Endeavour. If we fight many more battles like that one, I won't have enough crew left to run the ship. But we still do our duty."

"I'm sorry," the Terran captain repeated. In his own pain he had struck out, irrationally wanting to make the other man hurt as much as he did. His Klingon friend did not deserve his anger.

Krang did turn this time. "No commander worth following finds it easy to send men out to die," he said quietly. "The day it becomes easy is the day I will resign my commission." He hesitated for a moment before adding, "I have a bottle of Romulan ale in my quarters. Once I've got this wound seen to, maybe you would join me for a drink – a toast to our crews."

"May I remind you that Romulan ale is illegal in the Federation," T'lia said, approaching them, ready to begin treating the Klingon's injuries, "And for good reason."

"Hegh'Ta is a Klingon ship," Captain Mackenzie said. He was not about to refuse what amounted to a peace-offering from his friend. "And we are a long way from Federation space. Thank you, Captain Krang, I would be glad to accept your invitation."

T'lia sighed. "You'll both want these then." She handed each of them a couple of pills.

"What are they?" Krang asked suspiciously.

"Anti-inebriants," she answered. "They'll stop you getting a hangover. Now, remove your trousers please."

"What?"

"I cannot examine that wound on your thigh while you are wearing your trousers," T'lia told him patiently. "Now, will you please do as I ask?"

With a long suffering look at his fellow captain, Krang obeyed.

* * *

In Hegh'Ta's mess hall, the two captains were leaning over the table, facing each other, grim expressions of concentration on their faces as they each battled to gain supremacy over the other. Hands clasped, each fought to push the other's arm to the table. The watching officers were laughing and calling out encouragement and Krang was amused to note that it was the Terran they were cheering for. He had removed his gauntlets and spiked gloves to make it a fair contest and they lay on the table, next to the half empty bottle of Romulan ale. He was holding his own easily. Klingons were physically stronger than Terrans and both men knew that Krang would eventually win this match. In the meantime, though, he was having too much fun to allow the competition to end quickly.

Mackenzie gave a very Klingon sounding growl as he struggled with his friend. He might not stand a chance of actually winning this match but that didn't mean he would just give up and allow himself to be easily defeated. His muscles trembled as he put every bit of strength he had into trying to budge the other man's hand. For a moment it looked as though he might succeed but then Krang pushed back and with a crash, the Terran's hand hit the table.

Mackenzie swore. _"Hab SoSlI' Quch!"_

The mess hall fell silent, waiting for the Klingon captain's reaction. Krang's eyes narrowed and he stiffened, his hand straying to the knife at his side. The expression the t _erragnan_ had used was a particularly vile insult. Its English translation, 'Your mother has a smooth forehead,' didn't sound particularly insulting; in fact it was meaningless. But in _TlhIngan_ _Hol_ there was nothing worse you could say to one of the imperial race. Looking at his friend though, Krang realised that the Terran had no idea just how far that went beyond the friendly name-calling he had intended it as. Even so, it took conscious effort to remain calm and leave his d'k'tahg sheathed in his belt.

"James, my friend," Krang said dangerously, "your knowledge of my language improves every day, but that is not something you say to a friend. In fact, if you want to live, then I suggest you never say it to me again." He reached for the bottle on the table and pouring some of the bright sapphire blue liquid into a glass, he handed it to the Terran.

* * *

Kehlan paced up and down her quarters restlessly. She had nothing to do and despite the ministrations of the healer, her wrist still ached. The bone had been shattered and T'lia had been forced to insert a metal pin to aid healing. Even with all the advanced medical techniques available to Federation doctors, it would still be some time before she had the full use of her wrist again.

Her disobedience must have angered the captain greatly she thought, for him to have ordered her confined to quarters. The problem was, she did not understand what Starfleet required of her. She was trained in the sciences not in command, yet they expected her to be able to run a Federation starship and she didn't know how. And now that they had Poseidon's bridge crew on board, she wasn't needed.

She remembered the conversation she had overheard in sickbay. She had just been beginning to regain consciousness after T'lia had operated on her when she had heard someone, a man whose voice she did not recognise, ask, "Who's that over there?"

"That's their first officer," another stranger, a woman this time, answered, "I heard she's on temporary loan from the Klingon ship."

"Well, Endeavour has been pretty short of senior officers," the man commented, "But I'm sure the Klingons will be glad to have her back. There's more than enough of us to fill the gaps."

Kehlan opened her eyes, blinking a few times until her vision came back into focus. The people talking about her were two of the rescued prisoners from the Poseidon. They were wearing clean uniforms now, both of them with insignia marking them as having the rank of Commander. Realising that the object of their conversation was waking up, the two officers walked over to her side.

"Hi there," the woman said, "I'm Elana Kal, and this is my colleague, Hassan ibn Ahmed." Her tone was friendly and Kehlan realised that the newcomers had not been intentionally cruel. They could not have known that in the few short months she had been on board, she had come to look on Endeavour as her home.

She had been released from sickbay shortly after that conversation, on condition that she rested for a while and did nothing to strain her wrist. That wouldn't be difficult she thought bitterly; confined to quarters, she had little choice but to take it easy.

It had come as a shock to hear the newcomers talking about replacing her, but it made sense. Unlike her, they were experienced Starfleet officers who had spent years doing this type of work. The more she thought about everything that had happened, the more she began to feel that she was a liability to the captain and she could see only one solution.

Going to her desk, she picked up a data padd and began to record a message to Captain Krang. Finishing the recording, she read through her request, added her signature and pressed the button that would transmit it to the Klingon ship. The padd gave a bleep, telling her that the message was safely on its way. Now she had the more difficult message to write, to Captain Mackenzie. It took time, but eventually she finished and saved the message. She would not transmit this message electronically; she owed him the courtesy of delivering it personally, which she promised herself she would do as soon as she was freed from confinement.

She sighed, getting up and wandering across the room to stare out of the windows into the vast blackness of space. Her head ached and it was hard to think straight, no doubt side effects from the anaesthetic and the pain medication she had been given. Disconsolately, she settled herself on the sofa and within moments was deep in a semi-drugged sleep.


	23. Chapter 23

Lightning flashed, jagged forks tearing open the skies, followed immediately by rolls of thunder, the rumbles coming so close together that they had merged into one long, menacing crash as another big summer storm raged over the First City of Qo'noS. It was just past noon but the sky was dark; huge black clouds blotting out the light and warmth of the summer sun and deluging the city below with ice-cold rain. The streets were almost deserted; no-one in their right mind would choose to be outdoors in this weather and everyone had taken shelter where they could. Likewise, the air traffic lanes were quiet, the storm having grounded all but the most determined travellers.

One shuttle, braver or perhaps more foolhardy than the rest, flying as low as possible to avoid the lightning strikes, came in to land as it reached its destination, skidding slightly on the waterlogged road until its pilot got it back under control and brought it to a halt.

The fee demanded by the pilot was high; flying in weather like this was risky and the passenger was an off-worlder who could no doubt afford it. The woman paid it without protest and as he took the payment from her, the pilot wondered idly what she was doing in this district. They were far from the usual tourist areas of the city. He shrugged. As long as she paid it was none of his concern.

The transaction complete, the woman stepped out into the driving rain. Thunder crashed again, almost non-stop now and the rain coming down even heavier as the storm intensified.

 _"_ _Kosst!"_ She muttered the imprecation under her breath, momentarily rethinking the paranoia that had prevented her from giving the taxi pilot her true destination. A few blocks wasn't far but the rain was torrential and despite the shawl covering her head, she was already soaked through. With a sigh, she pulled the shawl further over her face and began to walk, eventually coming to a halt outside a large, forbidding looking building.

A pair of armed guards stood one on either side of the entrance, huddling under the large, stone ledge that overhung the great glass doors. They looked as wet and uncomfortable as Maren felt but no less vigilant. She approached them cautiously and was not surprised when they snapped to attention, disruptor rifles at the ready. The headquarters of Klingon Imperial Intelligence was not the sort of place that got casual visitors and she had not made an appointment.

She shivered and it was not entirely because of the cold. This was not where she was supposed to be debriefed; she should be on Earth now, not Qo'noS but the Prophets had ordained otherwise. Exhibiting a confidence that she did not truly feel, she marched up to them. "I need to see the Security Captain."

* * *

The success of the rescue mission and the very respectable number of Jem'Hadar that had fallen to his blade had done much to lift Krang's spirits only for the Terran captain's cruel comments in Endeavour's sickbay to send them crashing back down again. Krang had realised almost immediately that his friend had spoken out of turn, that it was stress and worry for his crew that had caused him to verbally lash out and that the apology had been both genuine and heartfelt. Even so, it had taken significant effort for him to turn back to face the Terran and offer an olive branch.

Spending the afternoon carousing with the crew was probably not the most productive way he could have spent his time, but the impromptu party had had the effect of raising morale – and that, Krang judged, would do more good than yet another gun drill or training session. The crew had done well, they deserved a celebration and with both ships safely on their way to their final destination, a journey that would see them remaining in warp for at least a couple more days, there was no reason why not.

The post-alcohol headache hadn't yet kicked in, but the bottle of Romulan ale had led to a barrel of bloodwine, accompanied by several helpings of _gagh_ and a generous portion of _Bregit_ lung, after which Kargan had admitted to having a box of candied Racht in his quarters.. and that in turn had led to another barrel of bloodwine. Krang had no doubt that the headache, when it did turn up, would be a good one.

It was late afternoon by the time Krang finally returned to his office and began to wade through the mountain of paperwork that had built up. The term paperwork was out of date of course, he reflected wryly, computers and data padds had long since replaced any actual paper, but the name had stuck and whatever it was called, it seemed to take forever to deal with. Bogged down in department records and damage reports, his earlier good mood had long since faded and just as he'd predicted, the expected headache had turned up. Krang took no notice when the door chimed. When it chimed again, he didn't bother to look up. "Go away!" he growled, but the door swung open and his first officer came in.

"I thought I said go away," Krang said irritably. "What part of that don't you understand?" He sighed. "Well, since you're here now, you might as well sit down and help me with these reports."

"Kargan frowned but took the seat he was offered. "I came to tell you that I've just heard from Endeavour. We've lost Kruge and T'lia thinks that Geran won't live much longer."

Krang swore. "I really thought he would pull through" he said regretfully. "We are losing far too many crew members in this war. That's five dead in this battle alone."

"The newcomers look promising," Kargan said thoughtfully, "I think Lieutenant Chadra's going to be an asset. She's trained primarily in helm, but she's qualified in gunnery and communications as well."

"And the others?" Krang queried.

"They'll fill in gaps in the squads," Kargan told his captain, "The older one may be worth promoting to squad leader though, he seems pretty experienced. The younger one's got an attitude problem. I suspect he's going to be a trouble maker. I'd suggest keeping him in a very junior position for now until we see how he gets on."

Krang nodded. "I'll leave you to make the arrangements. We're going to have to take longer shifts or there won't be enough officers on duty. In the meantime I suggest you also have a look at the troops' personnel records and see if any of them have skills we can use on the bridge."

"I'll get right onto it, sir," Kargan said, retrieving a data padd from the pile on Krang's desk and making notes on it before putting it aside again and picking up another padd. Accessing the crew rosters he studied them carefully. He was about to make some suggestions when a flashing red light, emanating from the communications panel, caught his attention. He pointed it out to the captain.

"It's marked from Commander Kehlan on the Endeavour," Krang said, as he downloaded it onto his computer console and opened it up. He was silent as he read the message. Reading the message a second time, he finally looked up. "She has requested a transfer back to the Hegh'Ta."

"What?" Kargan said, shocked, "I really thought she was doing well on Endeavour."

"So did I," Krang said grimly. "I take it she hasn't said anything to you about this then?"

Kargan shook his head. "No sir." He was about to continue but changed his mind.

Krang saw his hesitation and understood why. Free speech was always dangerous on a Klingon ship. "You may speak freely," he reassured the younger officer, "You have my word that this conversation is not being recorded. This room is not bugged."

Kargan raised his eyebrows at this but decided to take the captain at his word. "Sir, she'd have to be crazy to want to come back to Hegh'Ta."

Kargan's statement very much agreed with Krang's own opinion, but he wanted to know why his first officer thought so. "Go on," he invited.

"Well, Kehlan's Houseless," Kargan said, thinking carefully about what he was trying to say. "And with all due respect to the Defence Force, there's no way they'll allow a Houseless female to progress to any significant rank; in fact she's lucky she made it that far as science officer. There's no future for her here."

"I know," Krang said. "So you think I should refuse her request then?"

"Kahless, no!" Kargan said, "If she really wants to come back, we could use the help. I just think she's making a big mistake and she'll end up regretting it.

"I'll speak to her first," Krang told his first officer. "I agree with you, she's making a mistake. But if it's what she really wants then I will arrange her return to duty."

Kargan stood up, gathering a handful of data padds into his arms. "I'll give you some privacy then," he said. "I'll be in my quarters, going through these files if you need me."

"Very well," Krang said, "Dismissed." He watched as Kargan left his office and the door swished shut behind him. Krang opened Kehlan's message and read it one more time before putting a call through to her. When her image appeared on the view screen, he was concerned to see that she appeared drawn and unhappy and she looked as if she'd been crying. He knew better than to comment on that though. Klingons did not - could not - cry; they had no tear ducts and her ability to cry was one aspect of her Terran heritage that Kehlan bitterly regretted, seeing it as a weakness.

 _"_ _NuqneH?"_ She gave the traditional Klingon greeting.

"I've just read your request for a transfer," Krang said, "I'd like an explanation."

"I am Klingon, and an officer of the Defence Force," she told him, "I wish to return to my duties on Hegh'Ta."

He hesitated, knowing that there had to be more to it that she was admitting. "Kehlan, you've been a friend of my family for years. Won't you talk to me?"

She looked away. "There's nothing to tell. Captain Mackenzie has enough senior Starfleet officers now. I am no longer needed here."

"Let me come over to the Endeavour and we can talk about it," Krang suggested, his concern growing. He had just returned from the mess hall after sharing lunch and a bottle of Romulan ale with his _Terragnan_ friend. It was true that with the rescue of the prisoners, Captain Mackenzie now had several more command officers on board, all of them highly experienced, but he had given no indication of wanting to replace his Klingon first officer. So what had gone wrong?

Kehlan shook her head, still not looking at him. "I am confined to quarters" she told him, "It would not be appropriate for you to come to my room."

"Look at me, Kehlan," Krang insisted. Slowly, reluctantly she did so and what he saw in her eyes, alarmed him. The Klingon fire appeared to be all but gone and in its place he saw defeat. He was silent for a moment, then finally, he said, "I will speak with Captain Mackenzie. And if you are sure that this is what you want, then I will expedite your return to my ship."

"Yes Captain," she said, "It is what I want." With that, she cut the connection, leaving him staring at a blank screen.


	24. Chapter 24

Moragh stood by the great, hexagonal window of his office, high up on the 30th floor of the Imperial Intelligence building, watching the storm as it raged across the city. Electrical storms were normal at this time of year but this one was spectacular and as he watched the lightning, he wondered idly why the weather control systems had not yet kicked in. His duty shift had ended almost two hours ago but he had no intention of going anywhere until the rain eased off.

The comm. system activated, its shrill chirp almost drowned out by the crashing thunder. With an annoyed growl, he turned away from the window and moved back to his desk to answer it. No doubt it was his wife, wanting to know why he was not yet home. No, he realised immediately, it was an internal call, originating from reception. His irritation increased. "What do you want, Lurqal? I am off duty. It is Colonel Traig's shift. Why are you not calling him?"

 _"_ _There is a woman in reception asking to see the officer in charge,"_ the receptionist informed him crisply, unintimidated by his show of temper _. "That would be you. Unless, sir…" she added with more than a hint of sarcasm, "…you would prefer me to call the Operations Master?"_

Moragh bit back a growl. She had him there. No, he most definitely did not want her to call the Operations Master. "That will not be necessary, Lurqal," he said quickly. Against his will, he found himself smiling as he remembered one of his Terran counterparts calling her a battle-axe. He was fluent enough in Federation Standard to know it had not been meant as a compliment, but typically Klingon, he had chosen to take it as one. While he could not speak for Lurqal's proficiency with a blade, he skills at keeping the unwanted at bay were impressive to say the least. She was the ideal receptionist.

Just the faintest hint of a snicker came over the comm. link as the receptionist savoured her momentary victory but wisely she made no comment, instead cutting to the issue at hand. _"I believe you should deal with this yourself, Security Captain. I think it's important_." Too important to delegate to the Colonel. Those words remained unsaid but Moragh heard them anyway.

It would have to be important for anyone to come out in this weather, he acknowledged reluctantly. "Very well, who is she?"

 _"_ _She's a Bajoran._ Lurqal informed him, adding in some annoyance, _"A very wet, soggy Bajoran who is currently dripping water all over the floor."_

It was Moragh's turn to snicker. "Then I suggest you get her a towel and a hot drink while she waits. It would be a shame if you caused our Bajoran allies to think poorly of our hospitality. Now, does this wet and soggy Bajoran have a name?"

 _"_ _The name she gives is Jen Maren."_

The name was vaguely familiar but he couldn't quite place it. Moragh scratched his crest as he tried to figure out where he had heard it before. It was several moments before he remembered his conversation with Krang. Jen Maren… Of course! She had been one of the passengers on the Orinoco, the refugee freighter that had been attacked by the Jem'Hadar. What was she doing here, he wondered? This was not a place that people came for fun. Her presence here confirmed Krang's guess that she was an intelligence agent.

"Very well," he said, realising the receptionist was still waiting for instructions. "Have her escorted up to my office and…" He was interrupted by a flash of lightning, bright enough to momentarily blind him. Crashing thunder followed immediately, so loud it shook the building and left his ears ringing. Moragh swore. That one must have hit the conductors on the roof only a few metres above his head. His temper frayed. Enough was enough.

 _"_ _Sir?"_ No longer adversarial or joking, Lurqal's voice sounded distinctly concerned.

"On second thoughts, I will come down," Moragh growled. "Show the visitor into interview room two and then get onto Weather Control. Tell those incompetent _petaq'pu_ if they don't want a full scale Imperial Intelligence investigation on their hands then they had better do their jobs and get that _Khest'n_ storm stopped RIGHT NOW!"

* * *

The room Maren had been shown to was windowless, with featureless, grey walls and a stone floor. It was spartan to say the least, its only furniture a desk and two uncomfortable looking chairs. Thankfully, she thought, it was at least warm and dry. It was also quiet. The noise of the thunder was muffled; either the room had some sound-proofing or the storm was finally dying down a bit. Maybe the Security Captain's threat had intimidated Weather Control into finally taking action.

Something about the atmosphere of the room made her feel uneasy. An interview room, they had called it. That, she thought cynically, was a euphemism if ever she'd heard one. She had been interrogated by the Cardassians in rooms that were all too similar to this one.

It was all she could do not to pace up and down. If she was being watched, she would give no indication of her nervousness. Where was he, anyway, she wondered in some annoyance? Now that she was here, she wanted to get this over with. What was taking so long?

Outwardly calm, she finished her coffee and placed the empty mug on the table alongside the damp towel. At least they had given her a hot drink and something to dry herself off. Maybe the delay was just typical Klingon rudeness and not an attempt at intimidation.

The door to the interview room swung open and a tall, powerful looking Klingon wearing the typical black uniform of Imperial Intelligence, entered the room. Even without the insignia on his collar, it would have been very obvious from his bearing and the way he carried himself that this was a person of rank and authority. He held a padd in his hand and crossing the room, he dropped it on the table before turning back to face her. He studied her silently for a moment before asking in passable but heavily accented Federation Standard, "You are Jen Maren?"

"I am," she confirmed, speaking in the same language. "And you are Security Captain Moragh _sutai_ Khamran."

He inclined his head. "I did not intend to leave you waiting here so long," he told her. It was not quite an apology but it was the nearest she was going to get from a Klingon. "I was on the 30th floor when you arrived. I think the _g'day't_ turbolift must have stopped at every single floor on the way down." He gestured towards the damp towel. "I see you have at least taken the opportunity to dry off a little."

"Yes, your receptionist was good enough to supply me with a towel." Changing to _Tlhingan Hol_ , a language she spoke fluently, she added, "I am not quite so wet and soggy now."

He grinned. "You speak my language well. Can I get you another raktajino?"

His teasing attitude and the offer of a drink put the Bajoran woman a little more at ease and she was quick to accept. The coffee had been surprisingly good; maybe a little stronger than she was used to but sweet and more importantly, hot. A refill would be much appreciated.

Opening the door again, he snapped an order to one of the guards in the corridor. The bekk hurried off and came back a few moments later with two large mugs of fresh raktajino. Moragh took them from him and dismissing him with a nod, he handed one to Maren and took the other for himself.

Settling himself in one of the chairs and taking a mouthful of the steaming, hot beverage, he waved towards the other one, wordlessly inviting her to sit down.

"So what is it you want, Jen Maren?" Moragh asked her, finally getting down to business. "You are not one of my agents. Why have you come here?"

"No," she acknowledged, "I am not one of your agents. Tell me Security Captain, am I a prisoner here?"

"What? No! Of course not!" The question took him completely by surprise. You came here of your own free will. You may leave at any time."

"You say that, but I am in an interrogation room," she said coolly, "And there are guards at the door."

"Ah! Yes… I…" Quite honestly, in his haste to take refuge from the storm, he had not stopped to think about how this would look from her point of view. "I would have much preferred to meet you in my office," he said wryly, "This room may not be as comfortable, but right now, it's about the only place in the building that I can hear myself think!"

Maren allowed herself to relax a little. She had taken a huge risk in coming here to speak to him and she would not have done so had there been any other solution. The Klingons were allies at this point in time but after the breaking of the Khitomer Accords earlier in the war, it was an alliance that was shaky at best and Klingon Imperial Intelligence had a well-deserved reputation for ruthlessness. This one however seemed honourable, his shock at her question obviously genuine. "I have urgent information," she told him, "I am placing my trust in you to act in the best interests of the Federation/Klingon alliance."

He considered that. "If your information is so urgent, why do you not take it to Starfleet?"

She shook her head. "I cannot be sure that the attack on the freighter was aimed at me but it is a very real possibility. By now it will be known that I am on Qo'noS. The Terran embassy is the obvious place for me to go. Someone was willing to sacrifice a ship full of refugees to stop me. I have to pass on this information before they catch up with me."

"I will aid you as best I can," Moragh promised her. "You have my word of honour on that. Providing of course that your information is not detrimental to the security of the Klingon Empire."

The Bajoran hesitated. She had no choice but to trust him, she reminded herself, it was too late to back out now. Taking a deep breath, she placed a microchip on the desk in front of him. "The information this contains is vital to the war effort. It is yours now. Do what you think best with it."

Reaching over the desk, Moragh picked up the microchip, inserting it into the data port in the side of his padd. Carefully, he read the information it contained before looking up with a frown. "Ketracel white? You are sure of this?"

She nodded, "Yes, I am sure."

Moragh was silent for a moment as he considered what he had read. She had not exaggerated the importance of the information. The substance was an addictive narcotic required by the Jem'Hadar who could not function without the enzyme it contained. If the data was accurate, this was one of the biggest production facilities in the alpha quadrant. If the allied fleets could destroy it, it would be a major victory. If they failed however... Moragh thought of the sheer quantity of Ketracel White being produced and the amount of enemy soldiers it could sustain… no, failure was not an option.

"You have done well," he said eventually. He thought back to his conversation with Krang. The other agent had been correct in his suspicions; someone at Starbase 62 was working for the enemy. "Can you identify the traitor?"

Maren bit her lip. "Yes and no."

The security captain raised a bushy eyebrow at the cryptic answer. "That is not helpful."

"I have evidence that two junior transport technicians on the gamma shift are involved," she clarified. "But they are just grunts. They do as they are told and have no role in the planning. Identifying the person in charge is more problematic. While I do have strong suspicions, my cover was blown before I had a chance to gain incontrovertible proof." She hesitated before continuing, "The only evidence I have is circumstantial but I believe the traitor to be the security chief. They are short staffed over there; he's pulling double duty as transport manager and…"

"And that," Moragh said in grim realisation, "Puts him in the perfect position to coordinate the movement of the Ketracel White."

"Exactly," Maren said.

The Klingon was silent for several long moments as he considered what to do for the best. "You must trust me to deal with this," he said eventually. "In the meantime I will make arrangements for your safety."

Relief showed in the Bajoran woman's eyes, "Thank you."

Rising to his feet, the Security Captain activated his communicator. "Colonel Traig, report immediately to interview room two."

 _"_ _On my way, sir."_

It was never a good idea to keep a Security Captain waiting and the younger officer was quick to arrive. Moragh rose to his feet as the door swung open and his subordinate entered the room. "Traig, this is Jen Maren. She has provided us with some very important information and is to be treated as an honoured guest of Imperial Intelligence. You will have her taken to a safe house and see to her protection. You will need to arrange a new identity for her and transport on a high security shuttle to Earth." He glanced at the Bajoran woman. "Will that be satisfactory?"

She nodded, stunned by the level of support he was offering her. "Thank you."

"Good." He turned his attention back to his aide. "Deal with it."

"Understood, sir." Traig said, "It will be done according to your orders." He offered his senior the Klingon salute and moved back to the door. "Ma'am, if you would come with me."

The Bajoran followed him and the door shut behind them, leaving Moragh alone in the Interrogation room.


	25. Chapter 25

The impromptu party in Hegh'Ta's mess room over, Captain Mackenzie beamed back to Endeavour and went straight to his office. His head ached - pounded actually, but well aware of the lecture he would get, he had no intention of requesting a painkiller from sickbay. Romulan ale was potent stuff and it turned out, not completely to his surprise, that it didn't mix well with bloodwine. Even with the aid of the anti-inebriant that T'lia had given him, he was already starting to feel hung-over. Combined with the alcohol, the generous portions of various Klingon delicacies he had eaten sat uneasily in his stomach. At least it was quiet in his office, he thought thankfully. He could hide away in there for a while and get on with some work without any disturbances.

He'd been there for maybe an hour when his combadge chirped, sounding unnaturally loud in the silence. So much for peace and quiet, he thought resentfully as wincing, he touched the badge in acknowledgement.

"Captain, I thought you might like to know that Captain Royce has just regained consciousness" the Vulcan healer informed him, "He is asking to see you."

"Thank you T'lia, that's good to know," Captain Mackenzie said, perking up a little at the news. "I'll be down as soon as I can." He got up and leaving his office, headed towards the turbolift. Maybe while he was down in sickbay he could 'obtain' a painkiller without T'lia noticing, he thought optimistically. Come to that, the way his head felt right now, it would almost be worth the lecture, just to get some relief.

* * *

Returning to his ready room after his visit to sickbay, Captain Mackenzie reflected over his conversation with Christopher Royce. He was worried about his old friend. Physically he was making a good recovery but mentally… well that was a different matter. The loss of his ship and the deaths of so many of his crew had affected him badly and it was going to take a long time for him to get over it.

The story that Captain Royce recounted was one that tragically was becoming all too common since the beginning of this war. The USS Poseidon had been assigned to investigate a cats-eye nebula and the Jem'Hadar battle cruiser had appeared out of nowhere, all its weapons firing. The Poseidon was a science vessel, not a combat ship and it hadn't stood a chance. And when the nebula class ship hung lifeless and burning in space, they had boarded the ship, taking all the survivors as prisoners.

The worst of it was, a science vessel shouldn't even have been out there in a time of war without an escort, but Starfleet had needed the data from the nebula and no escort had been available. And so, the USS Poseidon had been sent. Captain Royce had protested but to no avail – a Nebula class ship was more than capable of defending itself in case of attack, Starfleet Command had insisted. Well they had been wrong.

"The shields went down," Captain Royce told him, his voice filled with horror as he relived the events of that terrible day. "They kept firing at us, over and over. There were fires everywhere, you could hear the ship groaning as it was torn apart. We had no weapons to fight back – tactical and propulsion systems were the first to go. Then they started appearing on the bridge, and all over the ship, just decloaking out of nowhere." His voice trailed off and he gave a convulsive shudder. "They started taking prisoners," he continued eventually, "All of us who were fit – the ones who were injured or not able to fight were just killed. So many died – I'll never forget the screaming or the smell of blood and fear."

"It wasn't your fault, Chris," Captain Mackenzie told his old friend gently, "There was nothing more you could have done."

"I was their Captain. They trusted me and now they're dead!" Captain Royce said painfully, "I had a hundred and eighty people on board – there are fifteen of us left!" He stopped again and after a few moments of silence, he asked for a drink of water.

Captain Mackenzie immediately got up and poured a glass from the carafe that was sitting on the side table. He handed it to the other captain who took a long drink before continuing his story. Fifty-six of the crew had survived to be taken prisoner. Crammed together into the tiny cells on the Jem'Hadar ship, the constant fights with the enemy soldiers, combined with poor food, and hygiene and a lack of medical facilities, had taken its toll. As days turned into weeks and weeks into months, the number of survivors had dwindled, until only a handful were left. By the time the Endeavour had found them, the remnants of the Poseidon's crew had totally given up any hope of survival, let alone rescue.

Captain Mackenzie knew he wasn't the only one worried about Chris Royce's welfare. Before leaving sickbay, he had had a long talk with T'lia, who was equally concerned.

The Vulcan healer believed that Captain Royce would need extensive counselling before he would be able to return to duty. There was, not surprisingly a deep anger in the captain, that had been evident in the way he had fought the Jem'Hadar after his escape from the prison cells. From all accounts, he had gone completely berserk and torn one of the Jem'Hadar to pieces with his bare hands.

If he hadn't seen it for himself, Captain Mackenzie would never have believed it of his old friend. Chris Royce had always been a little on the sensitive side. His captivity and the loss of his crew in such a brutal manner had left emotional scars that would take a very long time to heal – if they ever did.

As for the crew of the Poseidon, well on a temporary basis at least, those who were fit enough, would fill in some of the gaps in his crew. And there were a lot of gaps to fill in. Over the last year Captain Mackenzie had lost too many brave men and women to the enemy and Starfleet had been too hard pressed to offer him any replacements.

Of the senior officers, Elana Kal and Morgana Baker would be the easiest to deal with. Both of them would slot straight into the positions they were most accustomed to – security and communications respectively. Commander Ahmed however was a different matter. A highly experienced officer who was in fact overdue for promotion, he had been the first officer on board Poseidon. But Captain Mackenzie was no longer in the market for a first officer, he was more than happy with the one he already had and was hoping to persuade Starfleet Command to make the appointment permanent. After thinking about it for a while and reviewing the commander's personnel file, he decided to post him to the tactical station.

At least his headache had gone. When he entered sickbay to visit Captain Royce, T'lia had taken one look at him and had silently handed him a painkiller. The expected lecture had never happened and to be honest, Captain Mackenzie thought, it hadn't been necessary. The healer might be a Vulcan but she was very good at making her opinions and feelings known. The expression on her face had said it all - Serves you right!

* * *

Yawning, Mackenzie glanced at the time. It was still quite early in the evening but the events of the last few days were starting to catch up with him and he was finally starting to feel tired. He should really go back to his quarters, he decided. He could do with a shower, a bite to eat and a couple of hours sleep before relieving Major Speares for the night shift.

He was halfway across the bridge when the turbolift doors opened and the Klingon captain came storming onto the bridge, obviously in a very bad mood.

"I want to talk to you," Krang demanded without preamble. Glancing at the interested bridge officers who seeing his expression, quickly looked away and became very busy with their appointed tasks, he added, "In private."

Captain Mackenzie sighed. Whatever Krang wanted, he really didn't need it right now. "Very well," he said, resignedly, "In my ready room." Turning, he headed back to the room he had just vacated, and Krang followed him.

"What can I do for you?" he asked, as the doors shut behind them.

"Kehlan has requested a transfer back to the Hegh'Ta," Krang told the Federation captain starkly.

"What?" Captain Mackenzie stared at his Klingon friend in disbelief. "You're not joking, are you?"

Krang shook his head. "I would not joke about something like that," he said, "I received the request half an hour ago." He flung the padd down on the desk in front of the Terran captain. "Here, read it for yourself."

Captain Mackenzie said nothing, not quite taking it in. Kehlan wanted to leave the Endeavour? To leave him? The thought was unbearable. Slowly, he reached out and picked up the padd, reading the message it contained. "I have received no notification of this," he said finally.

"Just what is going on with you two?" Krang exploded, "First I get this ridiculous request, then I find out you've got her confined to quarters. What in _Gre'thor's_ name are you playing at, James?"

"How I discipline my officers is not your concern."

That was true enough, Krang acknowledged, and in fairness to Mackenzie, Kehlan had disobeyed orders. A Klingon captain would have been within his rights to kill her for such a serious infraction even if it had been justified; sending her to her room was hardly an unfair or unjust punishment.

Krang would admit to having a soft spot for the young woman. She had been a close friend of his wife and his youngest daughter had been named for her. Kehlan was his last connection to his family and he was a little more protective of her than he should be. Right now, he had reason to be worried about her. Kehlan was strong and resilient. She'd had to be to survive growing up as a half-breed in a Klingon orphanage. She was not the type to run away from anything; her message asking to come home was out of character for her and coupled with the fact that she had been crying, it was a strong indication that something was very wrong.

While he had no definite proof, he had a good idea that she and Mackenzie were romantically involved, something that in itself he did not have a problem with. While he doubted Starfleet would approve, their anti-fraternisation policies did not concern him. But her distress did lead him to wonder if the Terran captain was treating her right? He bit back a growl. If Mackenzie had hurt her…

"Kehlan is still a Defence Force officer and is officially assigned to Hegh'Ta," Krang reminded the _Terragnan_ captain, "I am currently Hegh'Ta's captain. That makes her my responsibility. Now give me one good reason why I should not accept her request."

"Because I need her here," Captain Mackenzie said simply. "Krang, she's done well on the Endeavour. She's a good officer and she'll go far in Starfleet if she's given the chance. Can you guarantee her the same opportunities in the Defence Force?"

Krang shook his head. "No, I can't," he answered regretfully, "She'll never progress past science officer in the Klingon fleet. But it's her choice to return, and I'll be honest with you James, we've lost a lot of crew. It's not as if we couldn't use the extra officer."

"I know," Captain Mackenzie sighed. Then an idea struck him. "Actually, I may have a solution to your crew problem."

Krang was immediately interested, "What have you got in mind?"

"I have several junior officers who speak Klingon," Mackenzie told him. "I think at least some of them would jump at the chance to gain some experience serving on a Klingon ship."

The Klingon considered that. "It would certainly strengthen the relationship between our two crews," he acknowledged. "Yes, I think it would work well."

"Good," Mackenzie said crisply, "I'll speak to them and get the transfers put into motion."

Krang nodded before asking. "Now, what do we do about Kehlan? I am concerned for her, James. When I spoke to her she seemed…" He paused, searching for the right word. "…unhappy."

"Give me some time to talk to her," the Terran said heavily. "If she can convince me she really wants to return to Hegh'Ta, I won't stand in her way."


	26. Chapter 26

Emerging from interview room two and heading back to his office on the thirtieth floor, Moragh was relieved to find that weather control had finally kicked in and the storm was rapidly dissipating. Even the rain was easing off and glancing out the window, he could see traces of blue breaking through the dark, heavy clouds.

Settling himself at his desk, he activated his computer and input the passcode that would allow him access to the Imperial Intelligence database.

After his conversation with Krang, he had already set in motion an investigation into the situation at Starbase 62. It was a Federation base but in this time of war, the possibility of someone working for the enemy had implications for the Klingon Empire as well. The information from Jen Maren had been unexpected but useful.

Moragh was all too aware that the Bajoran woman had taken a massive risk in approaching him. Now, he decided, it was his turn to do likewise. Opening a high security, encrypted comm. channel, Moragh placed a call. He needed to talk to Admiral Portway at the Terran embassy.

He was kept waiting for only a few seconds before the rotating Starfleet logo on his screen cleared and a sandy haired human woman came into view.

 _"_ _NuqneH?"_ the Terran admiral asked in atrociously accented _TlhIngan Hol_ before switching back to English. "What can I do for you, Security Captain?"

"There is a young woman working at Starbase 62," he told the admiral bluntly. Not bothering with any of the social niceties the Terrans tended to consider essential, he cut straight to the chase. "I want you to arrange for her to get a job close to the command team. A secretarial role in the Security department would be ideal."

Portway raised an eyebrow. She was not sure what she had expected, but it certainly wasn't a request of that nature. This was unprecedented. "You are asking us to get one of your agents into a sensitive position?" she queried. "You realise of course, that you are giving up her identity?"

"I am aware of the consequences," he growled. "I believe that cooperation between our respective agencies is necessary. I am trusting you to maintain her cover and to ensure her safety."

Portway nodded soberly. "You have new information, I assume."

"I do," he said. "I have a name. There is as yet, no concrete proof but it does at least give us a target."

The Terran considered that. "Very well," she agreed. "Give me the details and I will see what I can do."

"Stand by," he warned, "I am transmitting the file now."

Several seconds passed before she acknowledged. "Received… Decoding… Yes, I have it."

Moragh watched with grim satisfaction as her expression changed, shock and outrage becoming evident as she learned the identity of the traitor. "Rest assured, Security Captain," she said angrily, "I will deal with this."

The Security Captain nodded his thanks and with typical Klingon abruptness, cut the call, immediately placing another one, this time to Defence Force Headquarters. Part one of his plan was in place, now for part two.

* * *

By the time the captain finally summoned Kehlan, it was mid-morning the following day and she was an emotional mess. She felt overwhelmed and out of her depth; she'd done her best and somehow she had failed. She did not have the training or the experience for this.

After an unsettled night, it was the pain in her wrist that had awakened Kehlan that morning. The standards of Federation medicine were way higher than anything practiced in the Klingon Empire and Kehlan would be the first to admit that access to decent medical care was one of the major perks of serving on a Starfleet vessel. Things like broken bones and minor injuries could be healed almost instantly. The injury to Kehlan's wrist however was more serious; the bones had been shattered, not just broken and it would be several days before she regained full use of her wrist. In the meantime, T'lia had strapped it up to limit her movement and as well as the pain from the broken bones, the bandaging felt tight and uncomfortable.

Her mouth was dry and furry, no doubt a remnant from the anaesthetic she had been given. Somewhat unsteadily she got out of bed and made her way to the replicator to order a glass of water. After what felt like the tenth degree from the replicator as to planet of origin, whether she wanted her water hot or cold, still or sparkling and a few other parameters it deemed necessary, it finally gave her the drink she wanted. Carefully she lifted the glass and drank down its contents, saving a little of it to take the painkillers T'lia had given her.

The limited movement in her wrist made simple things like getting dressed a little more challenging than usual. She was off duty but out of habit, she pulled on a clean uniform, fastening it with some difficulty and pulling a brush through her unruly curls.

Padding barefoot across the room, she picked up the padd she'd left on her desk the previous night and then settled herself on the sofa under the window. Activating it, she read through the resignation letter she had written but not transmitted. Had she overreacted, she wondered? Should she just erase this message and contact Krang to tell him she had changed her mind?

Kehlan thought back to the rescue mission. The captain had ordered her to remain on the ship but he had not been aware of the full extent of the Jem'Hadar presence on the planet and with communications jammed, there had been no way to warn him. If she hadn't beamed down with the marines, a lot of people would have died so why was he so angry with her?

He'd chewed her out for not wearing protective body armour, she remembered. In hindsight that had been a mistake. What other mistakes had she made? Innately honest, she began to consider that question and she found that she did not like the answers.

Impulsively, Kehlan logged in to the computer system and accessed Commander Ahmed's record. It was impressive, driving home the conviction that she was no longer needed here, that she had done the right thing in requesting a transfer. The Bedouin had been Captain Royce's First Officer for the last five years and before that, second officer on the Akira class USS Sentinel. He was a highly experienced officer, with several commendations and he was more than qualified to take over as Endeavour's First Officer.

Kehlan scowled at the image on the screen. She did not want to leave Endeavour. She liked it here and got on well with the crew. She had begun to make friends and for the first time in her life she'd truly felt accepted, that her status as a Houseless half-breed was irrelevant. Not that Kargan or Vareq had ever treated her with anything but respect but she remembered all too clearly how Hegh'Ta's previous first officer had treated her with contempt. No, she thought again, she did not want to leave, but facts were facts. Endeavour did not need her, Hegh'Ta did.

It was sometime around eleven hundred hours when the comm. system chimed and she heard the Captain's voice. _"Commander Kehlan, report to the Ready Room."_

Kehlan's stomach churned. "On my way, Captain."

Uncurling herself from the sofa, she slid her feet into her boots and with a quick check in the mirror to make sure she was presentable, she left her quarters and headed for the turbolift.

Exactly three minutes later she was standing on the bridge, in front of the ready room door. When it slid open, she entered, and crossing the room she placed the data padd on the desk in front of him.

"What's this?" he asked, not looking up from the report he was reading.

"My resignation," Kehlan told him, "I've requested a transfer back to Hegh'Ta."

It was true then. Kehlan wanted to leave the Endeavour, to leave him. Thanks to his earlier conversation with Krang, he had at least known this was coming, but even so, hearing her actually say it, struck him like a knife in the gut. He picked up the padd and pretended to study it, anything to avoid looking at her. He didn't want her to see the hurt in his eyes, the pain he felt at the thought of losing her, both on a professional and a personal level. "Yes, Captain Krang told me he'd received a transfer request from you" he said coolly, finally raising his head to look at her. "So, are you going to tell me what this is all about?"

Kehlan turned away from him, looking out of the window, "You were right," she said, her voice quiet and subdued, "I'm just a science officer, I'm not trained for this. I'm not fit to command a Federation ship."

Captain Mackenzie frowned, not understanding. Admittedly, she had a lot to learn but how could she even think she wasn't good enough? "Commander Kehlan, you are one of the best officers I have ever had the privilege to work with" he said, "Endeavour needs you. I need you."

"How can you say that?" she asked bitterly, "I've done everything wrong and I've disobeyed orders. I don't deserve this posting."

"You do have a lot to learn," he agreed, "And I am at fault for not ensuring your training was adequate. You also need to learn to control and channel your anger although at least when you lost your temper, you did it in private. Considering your lack of training for the role, you have actually done extremely well. Since you came on board, you've re-organised and streamlined the duty rosters, you've made major improvements to the ship's sensors and you helped find a way to cloak Endeavour. Most importantly you've gained the respect of the crew."

Getting up, he moved across the room and joined her at the window. "You disobeyed my orders and I will be making a note to that effect on your file. I will also be entering a well deserved commendation."

Kehlan was genuinely confused now. She did not comprehend how she could be both reprimanded and commended for the same actions and she told him so.

"Kehlan, part of being a First Officer, is the art of knowing when an order should be disobeyed," he explained, "You made a decision based on information that was not available when I gave that order and you took the appropriate course of action. Because of what you did, the mission was a success."

He held out the padd to her but she made no move to take it from him. "Then why did you relieve me of duty?"

The captain sighed. "Because I was angry," he told her honestly. "You got hurt protecting me and I didn't like it. You need to rest for a while and recover from your injuries. If I hadn't relieved you, then you'd have gone straight back on duty, wouldn't you?"

She nodded, acknowledging the truth of his statement.

"It wasn't just your wrist that you injured, Kehlan, you took a very nasty slash across your chest and abdomen," he reminded her. "I am sure the treatment you received is better than that on offer in the Klingon Empire but it's still not magic. It's also usually recommended that you take at least forty-eight hours to recover after a general anaesthetic."

She was silent for a moment, then asked, "What about Commander Ahmed?"

Mackenzie frowned, "What about him?"

"Well… Why aren't you asking him to take over as First Officer?"

It was a valid question. The Captain sighed. "I would prefer to keep the one that I already have," he said, "I have asked him to take the temporary role of Tactical Officer and he is happy with that. I suspect that once we get back to Federation space he will be offered his own command. He's certainly overdue for one." He thought for a moment, then added, "I recommend you talk with him. He's an experienced officer and he knows the Nebula class inside out. I think you will find him willing to spend some time with you and help you to learn."

Mackenzie held the padd out to her again. Kehlan said nothing but she reached out and took it back from him. He breathed a sigh of relief. For a few minutes there, he had really thought he'd lost her. I'll allow you to return to duty tomorrow," he said, "You're dismissed."

"Aye, sir."

Turning to leave, she was called back by his voice, and it was James who spoke now, not the captain. "Kehlan, will you have dinner with me tonight?"

* * *

A big thank you to Krisarna for all her questions, they are actually very helpful to me in working out what works and what doesn't. Ive gone back and edited chapter 5 slightly, to make Krang's motivations a little more obvious. Krisarna, (and anyone else reading) please do keep the questions coming, I do appreciate them.

Thank you also to the people who have favourited or are following this story, please do leave a comment to le me know what you think.


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